How to win a war and save people
by Blullulu25
Summary: Looking back at her life until that moment, she had to admit it had been blissfully normal and uneventful. Boring maybe. But after her estranged mother's death and being thrown in the middle of a war between mystical mass murderers and super detectives, she would take boring and normal any day, for the rest of her life. L/OC eventually.
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer** : I do not own Death note nor its characters, if I did L would be alive and well. I only own my OC's.

 **Author's note** : Hi everyone! This is my first Death Note Fanfiction, wanted to try my hand at this. Let me know what you think, have a nice day!

The young woman hastily made her way to what had once been her bedroom in the headquarters. Technically it was still her bedroom, at least for the next thirty minutes or so ad maximum.

Closing the door she began to pace, thoughts going a mile per hour, nodding to herself and taking huge gulps of air to prepare for the epic confrontation that was about to take place in a minute or so. Everything had to go swimmingly if she wanted to make it out of this situation unscathed, the man she was about to face was highly intelligent and cunning and, most of all, a paranoid, suspicious bastard.

Quickly she revised every step of the plan, praying to any listening entity above (well, if shinigami existed, everything was quite possible..) to not let her sister be distracted by Light's hair or eyes or whatnot and do what she had asked previously.

She had to somehow draw him near her without tipping him off that something was amiss. Fortunately they had grown closer in the last few months of their peculiar living arrangements, maybe an attempt of swaying her to his cause and gain her secrets.

Pulling the hood of her black sweatshirt up, she checked her left pocket for her phone. A quick and silent push of the digit sporting the number one would alert Misa of the beginning of her task.

Hopefully.

It wasn't as if she didn't trust her sister or that she thought her stupid. Misa was far from it, but she was childish, and had been spoiled rotten by their mother and her step-father, who had adored her with every fiber of their being. Especially their mother. Misa had been the sweet, beautiful, uncomplicated child that she had with a respectable man who had loved both of them fiercely. Maybe Marguerite Amane had been too young and naive when she had her first daughter…

But yes, she was digressing.

Her sister had had the potential to be an intelligent, independent and strong woman before all this shit storm with Kira, shinigamis and super detectives, and the woman had been adamant to reset the situation straight, for Misa to start over and even for him..

He would have died if Rem, God bless that shinigami and her love for both sisters, hadn't told her about the plan that little son of a bitch her sister worshipped had conjured.

She couldn't just sit back and watch it happen, not to him.

But she couldn't even witness her sister being put into jail or worse, executed.

Maybe Misa deserved it for what she had done. For all the killings and for behaving like a doormat to that bastard who played her like a fool and treated her like shit.

Yes, there was no long lost love between the woman and the Yagami kid, even though he put on the charm ten folds around her. But she had not be fooled, not even for a second.

However Misa.. She felt responsible for that girl, and, most of all, guilty.

She couldn't allow her sister to rot away, in jail or in a nuthouse, your pick.

How many times had she been envious of her little sister that she had seen only once before being whisked away by her paternal grandmother to Italy?

How many times had she wished her mother had never met Katsuo Amane and never gone with him in Japan to play the happy family?

How many times had she wanted Misa to just disappear?

Hell, one time she had even wished for the fucking kid to just die.

She had been a stranger to her sister's life, only knowing what their mother told her on the phone, the rare times she had called.

A perfect, beautiful, loving kid with a stellar model career in front of her while she had been the moody, studious brat who didn't give two cents about her appearance.

But when she had came to Japan for her mother's and Katsuo's funerals and saw her crying in desperate huge sobs with fat tears rolling down her cheeks, not caring about anything and anyone, clutching their mother's white, lifeless hand, like a child, as if it was her only lifeline, so small, so innocent and fragile, she had felt her hate and envy crumble.

Then the guilt had started.

Maybe the fault resided in her Catholic upbringing, or in her grandmother's stern discipline but the woman had felt crippled by the guilt and shame at her previous behavior, at her thoughts and had decided to devote herself to the well being of her little sister. And for a while it had been ok, just the two of them.

Then came Kira and that damned black notebook..

The sound of the door opening and closing startled her from her musings and she looked up in the face of the person who had just entered and stilled.

Huge, black eyes looked at her unflinchingly, almost deceptively dull and bored. Oh, he was far from dull and despite his devil may care posture with his hands in his pockets and his customary bare feet, she knew that in this moment he was like a dog with a bone. In this particular scenario she was the bone and if she wasn't careful enough she would come off mauled after all of this.

Still, looking into those bottomless dark pools sent a shiver down her spine. They were so black, like black holes, ready to attract her in their orbit and swallow her whole.

"Where has Moni-chan been this afternoon?" The man asked with his deep monotone.

She immediately looked at her feet, still clad in her black and pink sneakers. As disgusting as Japanese found the habit, she often forgot to take them off when inside a house.

Well, now this terrible habit, that had always made Misa cringe, would come in handy for a hasty retreat.

"Mm.. Out.. I-I needed a breath of fresh air.." Monica tried to convey her anxiety in that sentence, even putting her hands in her sweatshirt's pockets, her left securely around her phone while her right brushing something that would become useful in the very near future..

She took a furtive glance at him as he made two silent steps further into the room, biting her lower lip.

"Moni-chan stayed out for four hours, without her phone." He stated.

 _Without my tracker you mean.._

Clenching her jaw to show her irritation she stayed stubbornly silent.

Monica heard him coming closer and felt a little triumphant that her plan was actually working.

"Moni-chan, I would like to ask you a question."

Damn his fucking childish pattern of speech, she knew exactly what he was about to ask. She pretended to flinch and closed her eyes in dismay. Who knew she would be so good at acting? Did it run in the family? Misa beware!

"Yeah.. Ask away Ryuzaki.." she answered resigned.

Slowly he took his right hand out of his pocket and brought his thumb up to rest on his white lips.

"The Death Note in our custody disappeared this afternoon, just before Moni-chan went out for her.. breath of fresh air..." He trailed off looking intently at her.

She gasped in mock surprise, then closed her mouth to gulp loudly.

"Rem-san has also disappeared." He continued, tilting his head, full of messy pitch black hair, to the side.

"Does Moni-Chan know anything about it?"

And wasn't it a Million dollar question?

"N-No, Ryuzaki.. Obviously not.." She declared turning her body towards him.

He kept looking at her, narrowing slightly his eyes while he hummed as if considering the possibility. He was 99,9% not. For sure.

"And would Moni-chan know anything about Light-kun's and Misa-chan's change of behavior that occurred this afternoon, two hours after Moni-chan's outing?"

Ryuzaki pulled his thumb off his lips that were set in a firm line, giving his usually emotionless face a stern, accusing expression.

Of fucking course he would immediately notice that too, wouldn't he?

She tried playing dumb, hoping that seeing her so pathetic and defenseless would make him feel in control and maybe lower his guard a little.

"W-what? What do you mean? Is my sister ok?" Her voice was full of concern.

"Misa-chan and Light-kun are fine Moni-chan."

He took a step closer and she could feel the heat of his body and his smell. She felt the urge to just close her eyes and let the fragrance wash over her. A musky smell, obviously very male, with a tinge of strawberry and vanilla.

Monica inhaled sharply.

If everything went accordingly this would be the last time his particular smell hit her nostrils and she basked into this sensation. Again a shiver went through her and she chanced a glance at his face.

Oh, for all his social awkwardness, he knew exactly what his proximity was doing to her. If she could conjure a mirror and stare at her face she would probably see her pupils dilate and her lips moist, ready for a kiss. Yeah, sure…

She could remember as if it were yesterday when Ryuzaki had asked a noteless and wide eyed Light to pretend to love her sister, essentially to toy with her feelings. In that moment she had started to get to know this side of him, he was a cunning and deceptive man, willing to do just about anything to win, to solve the riddles that were in front of him, harsh and uncaring in the pursuit of his 'Justice'.

But she liked him even for his ruthlessness, maybe in spite of it.

He had always been painfully aware of her attraction to him and, like the bastard that he was, he had played her and she had let him.

Let him think she was gullible, and maybe a little like her sister too. Well, no. Monica was no masochist nor a doormat, fuck genetics and all.

She knew he had disregarded her from the very beginning, labelling her as not a threat.

Sure, he had still been guarded around her (Misa, her little, childish sister was still suspected of being a mass murderer after all), at least more so than with Matsusa or the other members of the task force, and after getting a hint of her admiration and crush (such a silly term) on him, he had tried to be more charming and gentle around her, being sometimes rather awkward and borderline weird.

But still the effort had been evident for everyone to see, startling sometimes even his caretaker, Watari.

Whether or not she found his attempts adorable and cute, Monica had known that his behavior hadn't been actually genuine from the very beginning.

Hell, she didn't even think that it would be possible for him to form any kind of romantic feelings towards anyone, least of all for her.

Ryuzaki wouldn't certainly consider her a threat, and her previous meek and goofy behavior had confirmed that truth. He was a logical man after all.

Well, in the end she had won, a war that she hadn't even wanted to have anything to do with, and both L and Kira had been… Neutralized, let's say.

By her.

She had always been an excellent student, albeit a little lazy, and considered very smart, even brilliant by her teachers and peers alike.

Maybe she would be considered dumb in the presence of both L and Kira but still… She had won.

But she went ahead of herself, she had to survive this before she could even remotely think about gloating.

"I would say that Misa-chan and Light-kun are better than fine, Moni-Chan." He continued after a pause.

"Oh… G-good then.." She stuttered then stayed quiet, her green eyes downcast.

His right hand returned to his pocket and he tilted his head downwards in silence.

The tension in the room could be cut with a knife and she felt the urge of blurting out something just to break it off.

But no, it was important to let him play his role and draw within her reach…

"Moni-chan, did you take the Death Note?" He asked directly setting his gaze of steel on her face.

Finally the dreaded question.

Her head snapped up to look at his intense, cold back eyes.

A tinge of betrayal? Disappointment? Never had he looked at her like that.

Guarded? Sure. Calculating? Hell, yes.

Never downright hostile. An uncomfortable emotion swelled in her chest and her throat started to burn.

"W-what..?" Tears were gathering in her eyes at his suspicious stare and she let them, least be more credible.

"R-Ryuzaki..I-I.. W-why would y-you..?" She managed to stammer before he invaded her personal space, looming over her pitiful height that she shared with her sister.

"Moni-chan, if you confess now and give me the notebook back there will be no consequences." His deep voice surrounded her senses and for a moment she closed her eyes, savoring it.

"I know that you did it to save Misa-chan."

Yes, it was true, what she had done in the past and this afternoon, the risk she took, of being killed by that other shinigami, only for Rem to come to her rescue, threatening him with a king or whatever (when he had actually taken out his notebook her brain had just about melted and she could have sworn she could feel a burning in her chest, and well, she hadn't paid much attention to the two growling shinigamis' words.), everything she had done had been for her little sister. Because Monica had hated and envied her all her life, but the first time Misa had seen her at the funeral, she had thrown herself in her arms, as if they had been raised together, as if they had been close all their lives, praying and downright begging to never leave her, sobbing that she was the only person she had left. Her heart had stopped beating right after that, then the shame and the guilt had come and she had sworn in that moment to protect her. And protect her she did.

Ryuzaki's words hit close to home and at this point Monica started to sob, the noise covering the clicking of her phone's button. Her sister would be hopefully acting in seconds.

He kept silent during her sobs, probably sneering mentally at her pathetic display of emotions.

Then Monica felt something surprising, a hand on her shoulder.

She gasped in shock, almost chocking on the saliva that had pooled in her mouth.

Was he willingly touching her? Trying to offer some kind of comfort? Ryuzaki?

This had not been even remotely contemplated in her scheme, but she would roll with it.

The hand then guided her gently toward his chest and the woman felt her heart speed, accompanied by a twist in her guts for what she was about to do.

Guilt probably, fucking new, eh?

She started to sob harder her left hand coming up to clutch at his white T-shirt, while the other hung limply by her left side, clasping the syringe.

"I-I'm s-s-sorry.." She managed to stutter out over and over between hiccups, like a litany, in his half embrace as her right hand moved slowly and stealthily towards his jeans clad tight and stabbed him, releasing the yellowish liquid inside his body.

Ryuzaki froze.

Monica quieted her sobs.

The woman was pushed out of his embrace, light chestnut locks bobbing at the sudden motion, his right hand stayed on her shoulder while the other dislodged the syringe that was still stuck in his body.

He stared at it with a disbelieving look on his face, then snapped his eyes to hers, a look of incredulity and betrayal passed in those dark orbs. Rethinking the label now Ryuzaki?

So many emotion clouded his usually stoic face. The hand on her shoulder tightened painfully, nails tearing slightly the skin underneath, and she took it without even a grimace, as a penance for her actions, while fresh tears clouded her vision.

He took a stumbling step in her direction, whilst his hands made an aborted motion towards her neck.

Probably to strangle her. Not that she blamed him.

Monica gripped his arms tightly as his legs began to give out and gently led him to the floor, trying to support his dead weight.

She kneeled down beside him placing his head on her legs and caressing his surprisingly soft hair.

His breaths started to quicken as he struggled to speak.

"Shhh… L, shhh. Don't try to speak, it's all right.." She murmured reassuringly, stroking his cheeks gently.

"It's just a sedative, nothing lethal." She reassured him.

Finally her passion for pharmaceutical studies had come in handy. He probably wouldn't know anything about it, she had never advertised it and her humanistic studies certainly wouldn't have hinted at that.

She was an Linguist Major, her expertise in ancient 'dead' languages, with a passion for drugs. What a weirdo, eh?

He stubbornly kept trying to talk, but she ignored him continuing her ministrations.

"T-They were ready to kill you L…" His eyes snapped up at her with an indescribable emotion. She kept explaining while tears marred her cheeks, some of them hitting the face on her lap.

"Rem would have done it, she would have written you name on her book. I-I couldn't let them.. I had to do something."

Monica took a deep breath. Misa had fortunately done what she had asked her to this time, or else she would have probably been dead by now, sniped by Watari.

God how she loved that wicked English gentleman.

She choose her next word carefully, she had activated the tech that would scramble with the listening devices and cameras, but you couldn't be careful enough with this man.

"And they had both to be saved, even if I would have preferred to condemn one of them… So… I killed both Kiras, Ryuzaki. They are no more."

He narrowed his eyes at the last sentence while she kept stroking his fringe.

"And there are no tangible proofs of anybody's fault. I'm sorry that those murders will go unpunished. I'm sorry that you had to loose for this, L, I really am. But, hey, look at the bright side, you're alive… And you can still solve cases around the world and save people… T-this was the b-best solution L… I-I.."

She was babbling now and stalling. She didn't want to leave his side but she had to go to catch her ride, away from here, from this mess, from her sister and from him.

Monica stretched out her right arm, jostling the detective's head a little, to grab the pillow on her bed, gently squeezing it under him; then she stayed a moment by his side admiring his pale face with his delicate features. His lids were trembling and there was a fire in the depths of his eyes that she would have never in a million years expected from him. He was probably pissed off, and rightly so. She sighed.

"It was all true L… M-my…mmm.. Admiration for you.. I-I didn't fake it.. Not like you did with me.." He clenched his jaw at her words, and that fire in his eyes burned hotter.

"I don't blame you.. This isn't some kind of revenge, mind you.. I-I'm not a… vindictive bitch or something like that.."

Shit, this was difficult.

"I really, really like you Ryuzaki. I couldn't let you die just to capture someone. Y-you're too important…"

She admitted quietly gazing at him intently, trying to convey her honesty in a look.

She bent down then and kissed both of his cheeks, gambling that he didn't have the strength necessary to take a bite of her face. She didn't risk his mouth, it would have been slightly creepy.

Monica rose then, taking a bag that she had previously hid in her closet, then headed to the door after placing the blanket that was on her bed, over his still form on the floor.

"Good-bye Ryuzaki." She whispered without looking back, then locked the door.

She quickly made her way into the living room of the task force's quarters to find a fidgeting Misa who immediately tackled her with a little scream of her name, making her almost stumble backwards.

"I did as you asked me sis, he will be out for an hour or so." Misa whispered in her ear while hugging her.

Monica returned the embrace.

"Good, love, thank you."

She chanced a look at her surroundings to find an exhausted Mogi and Matsusa in the room, along with the little wannabe God.

"Everything good with Ryuzaki?" Light asked, turning to look at the girls. She took him in.

Really, seeing him again so innocent like that after knowing the monster that he had been during the ownership of the notebook made her question the pull that little dark object had on people. Maybe it made you want to try it and then you were hooked. Mmmm.. Something to ponder in the upcoming months then..

"Yeah.. I'm cleared... Rem has probably taken the notebook back." She told him escaping her sister's clutches.

It wasn't actually a lie. Rem had taken the notebook, only to give it to her. But that was a detail. Small and insignificant.

The beautiful boy narrowed his amber eyes in suspicion.

"He told you that?"

Monica felt rage swell in her chest and stomach. Really? Fucking Kira was accusing her? Yes, yes, he didn't actually remember being him, ok, but still.. Ironic much?

Even Misa looked slightly put out by his tone and sent him a reproachful glare. This day was full of surprises, it seemed. First Ryuzaki offering comfort then her sister defending her from her perfect boyfriend, what a turnaround.

She sighed.

"He hinted at that, Light. Look.. I had a urgent matter to solve at uni, Ryuzaki spoke to the head of my department. He confirmed everything." She told him while rubbing her temples, trying to slow down the huge migraine that was looming in front of her. After this shit she would be needing a drink. Or ten.

"Now, they asked me to take a trip to Sofia, to take a look at some texts that will hopefully clear the debacle around an ancient document that Athens' university lent us. And before you ask, yes Ryuzaki knows and has given his permission and even gave me a lecture for forgetting my phone here."

She lied tiredly, the adrenaline peak from before going dangerously low.

"You're leaving?" Misa whined with a pout, interrupting her boyfriend that was about to interrogate her further.

Christ, she only needed to get out of this fucking building and then all would be ok.

"Yes, sweetheart. I must. Not long though, three, four days at maximum." At her look of dismay she smiled, hearth warming a little, then added.

"I will bring you a fabulous present sweety, ok?"

Misa squealed in joy and hugged her again. In her sister's ear Monica whispered so low that only Misa would understand.

"Please distract Light for at least ten minutes after I'm gone."

She felt her stiffen for a moment but then nod.

"Moni-chan, you're so lucky that you get to visit the world for your job!" Matsusa interjected jovially lowering the tension in the room.

"Last minute trips aren't my cup of tea Matsusa-san, really."

Monica answered with a smile, then kissed her sister good bye.

"Good bye Misa, love." Monica stared at the lovely face trying to seal her features into her memory, then waved at the other task members and finally turned to Light, who regarded her cautiously, arms crossed tightly over his lean chest.

He interrupted her farewell with a question. Rude.

"Where is Ryuzaki now?"

Stupid nosy brat.

"He went to his room, to sulk or watch some camera recordings or whatever he does in there." She lied smoothly looking directly in his eyes, raising a brow in challenge, then stretched her hand.

The handshake was firm and despite her desire to crush his hand and break every little fucking bone in his limb, for ruining Misa's life, her life and thousands more, she kept herself in check.

"Take very good care of my sister in my absence Light." Her voice held a tinge of menace.

He narrowed his eyes.

"Of course." He answered with his smooth, cultured voice.

She nodded, then grabbed her bag, gave a last kiss to her sister and headed to the door, just barely talking herself out of running like a bat out of hell from there.

After exiting the building, as she was climbing inside the car that would take her away forever from that place, she sent a last look at the building.

"Good-bye forever, L."

The whisper was carried away by the wind.


	2. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Death Note or its characters.

 **Author's note:** Welcome to the second chapter of my story. No L, sorry. He will probably appear in the next chapter. Enjoy!

The sun was blinding at the beach, it was also hot as hell and Monica put down the magazine she had been reading to fetch her lukewarm bottle of water inside her purse, cursing the sand that had piled inside of it despite her efforts to keep it clean.

She gazed at the ocean, two young men were skillfully surfing the waves and she could hear their excited whoops from her spot on the beach, muscled bodies twisting and turning to stay on the board.

She took her time to ogle them, trying to find a spark of interest deep within her. Then sighed, discouraged.

Every man she had encountered in the year after escaping Ryuzaki's fortress, had been somewhat… Wrong and lacking.

Too tall, too blonde, too dark, too tan, too normal, too dumb.

Not that she had much experience in those matters.

One boyfriend of five months in England when she took her Master degree, then nothing.

After that came Ryuzaki.

It seemed that that damned detective had her ruined for the male population.

She would die alone, maybe with only few cats to acknowledge her departure.

With a groan she stood up, brushing off the sand that was stuck to her sweaty body.

Disgusting.

Next stop would be somewhere cold, like Alaska or the North Pole.

In all this time, Monica had already changed seven locations, included this, hoping that nobody would be on her trail. Maybe she would do this for two, three years tops before settling down somewhere.

Preferably with a mild climate.

Money was fortunately not an issue since daddy dearest had had many offshore accounts under various fake societies and names that after his prematurely death had passed to his only child.

His 'business' had always been somewhat shadowy and less than clean.

She had never really understood what her father's work had been and he died when she was only four years old.

But, whatever, she was reaping the benefits.

She stumbled in her flip-flops while making her way to her car which prompted a violent curse muttered under her breath.

Her time in Australia was coming to an end, having been there for two months already. She felt a pang of sadness at the thought. It was beautiful, with breathtaking sunsets over the ocean, still vastly wild and unpolluted by human expansion and the people were hospitable and very friendly. Well, it also housed dangerous animal species.

And spiders. Big venomous spiders.

She gave a shudder of revulsion at the thought of those eight legged monsters as she put on her sneakers, after checking inside to make sure that none of said animals had found their way inside to chomp on her toes.

Parking just outside the little grocery shop near her apartment, Monica made her way inside to replenish her fridge that was starting to resemble a biohazard lab, with mold inside an expired yogurt and a blackened banana. Ah, her laziness was showing. Three years ago she had her little sister to take care of but now she was alone..

Strolling through the aisles aimlessly she looked around for something interesting to eat at dinner, when a packet of instant noodles caught her eye.

Monica picked it up with a frown. Then a little sad grin made its way to her face.

It was exactly the same brand that she used to buy in Japan while living with Misa. They were both awful cooks and pre-packaged meals had actually saved them from starvation or from becoming broke with take-away.

God, she remembered the last time she had bought it…

DNDNDNDNDNDNDNDNDNDNDNDNDNDNDNDNDNDNDNDNDNDNDNDNDNDNDNDNDNDNDNDNDNDNDNDNDNDNDNDNDN

Why was it always her that had to buy groceries?

Why couldn't Misa for once in her life just go to the store or call telling her 'Moni-chan, I took care of dinner, don't worry?'

Even a damn text would be enough.

Grumbling under her breath while jostling ungracefully the grocery bags in her arms to open the door, Monica stumbled inside her and her sister's house.

"I'm home!" She yelled for her sister, hoping for some help that never came.

While putting the items away and muttering about ungrateful blond bitches under her breath, she heard her sister talking.

Maybe Misa had a visitor?

It was definitely strange, for her sister had been a little withdrawn in the last month, after returning home one evening, when a man had followed and scared her.

Monica had tried to convince her to go to the police to report the incident but the younger girl had been adamant not to. She had nearly become hysterical so Monica had indulged her, limiting herself to call Misa every two or three hours per day.

Yes, she could definitely hear Misa speaking…

She made her way to her sister's bedroom and knocked two times.

"Come in!"

Opening the door, she found her alone on the bed giggling and smiling like a loon.

"Hi Moni!" Misa squealed.

"Hi honey. Didn't you hear me get home?" She asked frowning and glancing around, she was acting stranger then usual.

Was she speaking to herself? Her phone was on her desk and there wasn't anybody in the room, apart from creepy goth dolls and macabre trinkets, but that was Misa.

"Um.. No Moni, Misa didn't hear you."

Why she insisted on speaking in third person she would never know.

It wasn't cute, it was irritating.

When Monica had tried to delicately point that out to her, it had resulted in an epic sulk fest and the blond girl not speaking to her for a week.

So the issue had never been touched again.

Like ever.

"Dinner will be ready in ten, if you want you can come and help me."

The brunette offered with a gentle smile. She tried to spend time with the younger girl whenever she could, striving to recover their broken relationship.

"Misa-Misa isn't hungry Moni-chan!" Her sister declared with a smile, squirming excitedly.

Monica huffed in annoyance.

"Honey, you're not fat! Stop all this nonsense!"

The blonde widened her hazel eyes in confusion.

"What?! No! Moni, it's just that Misa is in love!" She declared throwing herself back on the bed with a sigh.

God, not this Kira bullshit again!

Since that man, woman, entity, or whatever it was, had come out and killed their mother's and Katsuo's murderer, her sister had gone nuts, claiming to support him on tv and magazines, even writing songs and doing other embarrassing things.

She even had a damned shrine in her room.

Misa had never been the most sane cookie in the box.

"Honey.." She begun.

"No, no Misa can't keep it anymore! I've got to tell her Rem! Please!"

Misa interjected looking and talking to a point in the room.

Monica followed her gaze but saw nothing.

Was her sister going definitely mad? Her parents' death, the stalker, Kira… Maybe it had been too much for her fragile psyche.

Was she talking to an imaginary friend?

She really needed to contact that psychiatrist that someone at work had suggested her.

"Mmm.. Misa? W-who are you talking to?" She asked with a mounting sense of dread in her belly.

Misa jumped off the bed surprisingly fast and grabbed her by the shoulders, pushing her into the mattress with an impressive show of strength that Monica had never known she possessed.

"Moni-chan now please let Misa explain." She stated then went to her desk to rummage inside a drawer, all the while Monica stared gapingly at her.

The blonde turned around, clasping a black notebook in her hands, then skipped near the bed.

"Moni-chan, have you watched the news lately? Have you seen what Kira-sama did with Sakura TV?" Her sister asked sweetly, as if she wasn't asking about people being murdered on live TV.

She thought about the question. She had been submerged by ancient texts to translate from ancient Sanskrit to Japanese, that wasn't even her first language, so no, she had been a little busy.

This was the first evening in a while that she actually made it home at a decent hour.

She had heard her colleagues say something about that though.

But where was she getting at with this?

"I-I heard about it… Misa, what..?"

A hand in her face stopped her abruptly mid-sentence.

"Well.. It wasn't Kira-sama.." Misa continued, biting her lower lip in an adorable way as the older girl sent her a confused look.

"H-How would you kn.." Monica started to ask before being interrupted once again.

"It was me, it was Misa." Her sister told her with a happy and proud grin.

Monica felt an uncomfortable sensation in the pit of her stomach, she blinked in a daze few times then gulped loudly.

"Misa don't speak like that! This is not a joking matter! People are dying.."

Misa stomped her foot on the floor with a huff.

"Take this Moni! Misa can prove it!"

The black notebook was shoved in her hands and she took a good look at it. On the cover, gothic letters spelled 'Death Note'.

Curious she opened the first page. There were a set of rules, the first one reciting:

'The human whose name is written in this note shall die'.

What?

Then, 'this note will not take effect unless the writer has the person's face in their mind when writing his/her name. Therefore, people sharing the same name will not be affected', well nice to know that homonymy wouldn't result in multiple deaths…

What was this? Some kind of a joke? Misa looked serious…

Monica frowned at the book.

"Misa, is this some kind of a… What the fuck?!"

The last part was screeched in Italian, after Monica raised her green gaze from the pages to send a disbelieving glance at the blond girl, only to find a.. Skeleton..? Demon? Monster? that towered behind her petite sister.

The brunette raised a trembling hand to point at the.. thing.

"M-Misa..? T-there's someone… behind y-you.."

She stammered while the fear constricted her throat, making it impossible to swallow anything.

Misa glanced carelessly over her right shoulder.

"Oh, that is Rem-chan, she came with the notebook."

She easily explained with a shrug as the Demon/Thing gave her a little bow in greeting.

Was she dreaming? In the twilight zone? Dead?

Monica stilled as if frozen, million questions passed in her mind.

What was that thing? Was it dangerous? Was her sweet sister a murderer? She settled for one.

"R-Rem-san? A-are y-you staying for d-dinner?"

What a dumb question to ask a demon who looked as if it could snap her spine two like a twig.

The being tilted her head to the side, staring at her with a contemplative look in her.. one? Yellow eye. Oh.. the pupil was actually a slit, like a reptile.. And were those fangs? Very sharp fangs?

Monica started to sweat and tremble under this scrutiny, and prayed that she had not offended the entity in any way.

"Shinigami have no need for sustenance, as we are, in fact, dead. Thank you for asking Moni-chan, you are a considerate young woman."

The voice that spoke was deep and rough, like gravel, and if Misa hadn't previously tipped her on the… Shinigami's, at this point, sex, she wouldn't have figured it out and probably made an ass out of herself.

Thing that could have resulted in her prematurely death.

"Oh.. I'm sorry?" Was her clever response.

This was Monica's limit. In stressful situations, her brain would shut down completely.

"Don't be, child." The Shinigami, Rem, reassured her.

Really, was she dead?

Misa squealed in joy, taking the dreaded object from her sister's petrified hands. For a moment she hoped that the monstrous sight would go away with it. Nope, still there.

"Misa knew you two would get along!"

The blonde girl twirled around the room like a loon or better, like a deranged psychopath, in light of all she had done. Monica touched her throat that had constricted dangerously.

"Misa..What..? Please can.. Can you explain?" She managed to rasp out while the room started to spin dangerously.

Her sister took a seat next to her on the bed and took her frozen hands, placing them in her lap.

She started telling her story, about the stalker that had assaulted her and the Shinigami (who were Gods of Death she discovered) who gave up his life to save hers. Rem had stiffened after that particular retelling.

Misa then shifted to Kira, and the 'game' that she had played with the police, L in particular (who was apparently the detective in charge of capturing Kira, really she was out of the loop), that had resulted with multiple deaths of innocent people.

Monica started to feel sick in her stomach after that.

Her sister had been capable of this..?

She couldn't even think straight, she felt tears burning in her eyes as her world crumbled around her.

Misa was a murderer, she had killed innocent people in cold blood with the swipe of a pen. At least Kira mostly limited himself to criminals. Not that it was better.

Monica had failed. Her mother had failed. How could Misa do that?

Bile started to rose up in her throat and she took deep even breaths to manage to regain some kind of logic thought.

"Then at the Aoyama festival, Misa saw him!" The blond killer shouted in glee, bouncing up and down the bed.

Monica froze.

"W-who..?"

"Oh Moni! He's so handsome, like a movie star! Even his name is perfect!" Misa kept gushing nonsense while the brunette struggled to think straight.

Who could she possibly…

Dread filled her.

"K-Kira? T-the real one? You saw h-him?" She whimpered out in panic.

Misa sighed blushing.

"Yes! Then Misa went to his house to meet him!"

What the actual..? Was her sister suicidal?

"Misa! Why would you… Are you mental?" Monica screamed, finally having enough. Her brain snapped. She jumped off the bed and started pacing while throwing her arms up in the air.

"You went to meet a killer? One that you know could kill you just by scribbling your name in a fucking notebook? Have you finally lost your mind Misa? Wait, don't fucking answer yet. Of course you lost your damned mind! You killed people, people Misa! Innocent ones at that! What, so somebody doesn't agree with your idol and you decide to just end their lives? Christ, Misa! I don't know what to do! You're a killer! A murderer! What a fucking mess! I can't believe this is actually happening…"

Her right hand went to her heaving chest as copious tears descended down her eyes, she was going to have a panic attack, she was sure of it. The pounding of her heart was deafening and she feared she was going to have a heart attack. That would have been ironic.

Misa had been strangely silent during her rant, head downcast, blond fringe obscuring her face. Suddenly she snapped her head up and, honest to God, her hazel eyes turned red, making Monica flinch back in fear.

"Misa is going to excuse Moni-chan's words this evening, because she knows that her sister is tired and overwhelmed by everything Misa told her. But she won't forgive her if she doesn't change her opinion or if she won't ask for forgiveness in the morning." The blonde girl stated frosty while setting her unflinching crimson gaze on Monica who looked at her shocked.

Never had she seen her usually happy and bubbly sister so serious and scary.

She needed to be extremely cautious around her from now on, choosing her words carefully or risk being written off in that notebook.

"W-what happened t-to your eyes?" Why couldn't she just shut up without risking to enrage the psychopath in the room?

Yep, the brain was still disconnected.

Surprisingly Misa smiled, her eyes returning their normal color.

"Oh this? They are the Shinigami's eyes! So Misa can see the name of a person just by looking at their faces! Aren't they awesome? Misa-Misa can help Kira-sama better with her power." The blonde explained happily.

Misa's changing moods were giving her a whiplash.

"How..?" Monica tried to ask but her sister interrupted her quickly, looking down at her wrist watch.

"Rem-chan gave them to me. Moni-chan, Misa is sorry but she has to go, she has a date with her boyfriend!"

Oh God.. Did she mean.. Kira? Her boyfriend? Would she become an aunt to a bunch of psychopathic red eyed children in the near future?

Bouncing off the bed, Misa made her way to her bathroom, probably to change, while the brunette remained still as a statue on the bed, crying silently as a myriad of emotions swirled inside her mind.

Why? Why did it had to happen? This was a nightmare, it had to be. She would wake up any minute now.

No.. God. This was the sad, cruel reality.

Misa was a killer and had a mass murderer boyfriend. Ah, also Shinigamis and books of death existed. And she couldn't even tell anybody a damn thing, the risk was just too high.

Shit! Would she tell her… Boyfriend about her?

What a custerfuck…

"What was his name?"

Rem was startled by the young sad voice that broke the comfortable silence.

"Whose name, Moni-chan?" The Shinigami asked, curious about this strange human, so different from her sweet sister and yet.. Likable.

Not like the rest of humanity.

"The.. Shinigami that gave his life for Misa. Did he love her?"

The girl asked without looking at the Shinigami in the room.

"His name was Gelus and, yes, I believe he loved her."

What an intriguing creature. Not even Misa had asked such a thing.

After few minutes Monica raised from the bed, looking at Rem with a blank stare.

"I'm really grateful for his sacrifice or Misa wouldn't be alive.. But.. I don't know if it was a good idea to give her that notebook.." The brunette added.

"It was hers by right, Moni-chan, as it had been Gelus' before."

The Shinigami explained calmly whilst the girl nodded in acknowledgment.

"Rem-san? I know that we just met but.. Can I ask you a favor?"

The Godness of Death tilted her head to the side as if pondering the request.

"You may, but I cannot guarantee you that I will grant you anything."

Monica bit her lower lip, nodding once more.

"Can.. Can you try to protect her? From K-Kira?"

Rem stared at the girl for a full minute before bowing her head.

"I will do my best Moni-chan."

Monica smiled gratefully.

"Thank you Rem-san. If Misa asks for me, could you please tell her that I will be in my room? I find myself suddenly very tired."

She said while making her way to the door, swaying slightly.

"I most certainly will, Moni-chan. Good night."

"Good night Rem-san."

It was left unsaid that Monica didn't get any sleep that night.

Every time she closed her eyes she pictured her sister's face, with those frightening crimson eyes and a malicious smile on her lips while holding the notebook and scribbling away.

Dead, dead, dead.

People were falling down around her, clutching their chests with twitching fingers and grotesque grimaces on their faces.

In the morning she made her way into the kitchen, stumbling like a zombie, only to find Misa and Rem inside, the former singing happily under her breath.

So it really wasn't a nightmare.

"Moni-chan!" Her sister greeted her with a smile that morphed into a frown after she took in her disheveled state.

"What happened to my Moni-chan? You don't look well."

No shit, Sherlock.

Monica cleared her throat and rehearsed the speech she had prepared in the early hours of that morning in her mind, hoping that her performance would be good enough.

"Misa you were right yesterday's evening. I was really tired and overworked. I'm sorry if I.. Offended you or Kira-sama."

She bowed her head, mainly to conceal her disgusted grimace. She was pulled into a warm hug and couldn't help the shiver of revulsion at the thought of being embraced by a murderer.

"Oh Moni-chan! Misa understands, she loves her sister!" The blonde declared while hugging her tightly.

It didn't look like that yesterday…

Monica gently disengaged herself from those clutches to stare at her face.

"Unfortunately my grandmother called, I… I have to go to Italy for at least two weeks. I already warned my department." She lied smoothly.

She had called her grandmother after her talk with Misa and asked for a private jet that would take her to her home country.

She had always been good at lying since she was a little kid. It had been a necessity around the army of nannies and most of all her grandmother.

"Oh no! Moni-chan but you are so tired! Why when that harpy calls you always have to go?" Misa whined with a pout.

"Do you want to come with me? We could go to Rome, or Milan. There are wonderful boutiques. You could shop in the most exclusive ones." The brunette continued, ignoring her sister, torn between wanting to be as far as possible from her and wanting to take her away from Japan and all this Kira business.

Misa's eyes became sharp and cruel.

"Misa has to work and to help Kira-sama. And you know that monster hates me! As if it was Misa's fault that mother chose to get away from her! And now she's taking Moni-chan away from her, when Misa most needs her!"

Misa scowled, angrily crossing her arms.

Need her for what..? God..

Time to placate the little psychopath.

"I know honey, I'm sorry. You know she has my trust fund in her hands until I reach twenty five. It's just two months away."

Monica had to force herself to clasp her sister's shoulder to show her some kind of affection.

"Misa could just kill Moni-chan's awful grandmother. She would be free to stay with her then."

The brunette chocked on nothing while struggling to understand.

Was she for real?

A glance in Misa's direction alerted her of the seriousness of the situation.

Snuffing out her bubbling panic, she managed to use her brain.

"Oh love, that would be quite risky, don't you think?"

She said with a surprisingly calm and velvet voice.

The blonde frowned in confusion.

"Moni-chan's grandmother is old. An heart attack would not be suspicious."

Christ!

Had she already thought about that? Misa had never been a fast thinker…

What was her life becoming if she started her days discussing possible murders in the kitchen?

"Grandmother is monitored by a doctor every week and she has not heart issues, Misa. Her death would hit too close to home and if you ever get suspected it could be dangerous."

She prayed mentally that her reasoning sounded good enough to her sister.

"Misa forgets that her Moni-chan is super-smart! Almost as smart as Light-kun! Ooops…" The model hastily covered her mouth and blushed.

"Moni-chan! Misa shouldn't have told you Kira-sama's name!"

Good, if she could play dumb before, now she certainly could not.

"It's ok, hon. It can be our secret. I would never betray you."

And that most surely was true. She could never betray her sister, not after what Monica had done to her before.

"Misa knows this, but you must protect Kira-sama too! Swear it!" She demanded forcefully.

Now Monica had never taken promises she couldn't keep, If she said she would do something she would. Plain and simple.

This was why she hesitated. That promise went against all she believed in.

But still, her life was also important, and her sister was deeply infatuated with that man.

"I swear, Misa. I swear I will protect Kira-sama's secret too."

She stated solemnly, condemning herself to being an accomplice of two killers.

DNDNDNDNDNDNDNDNDNDNDNDNDNDNDNDNDNDNDNDNDNDNDNDNDNDNDNDNDNDNDNDNDNDNDNDNDNDNDNDNDN

"Hey Lady! Are you quite done with staring at those noodles?" A rude young voice asked, snapping her out of her memories.

"Umh..?"

She looked at the source of the offending sound to find a blonde boy, dressed in a black leather vest with slightly muscled arms crossed over his chest.

She kept looking at him in a daze, blinking several times.

Wasn't he sweating to death in this climate dressed like that?

"Hello? Are you stupid?"

What the fuck! What a rude little brat!

"Well, if you really must know… Yes. Any problem with that?"

She raised an eyebrow in challenge, mimicking his posture, even tough she was certain she didn't look threatening enough with her petite stature. Hell would freeze over before she would feel intimidated by a little kid.

She had escaped L, for Godness sake.

He clenched his jaw in anger and looked about to burst out something unflattering, when he stilled.

Then his arms tensed and he moved away from the aisle, voluntarily bumping her shoulder on his way.

Monica narrowed her eyes while looking at his retreating swaggering form.

What a peculiar behavior…

Maybe there was a new drug going around?

With a shrug she resumed her search for dinner before heading home.


	3. Chapter 3

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Death Note or its characters.

 **Author's note:** Hello everyone! Ok, I lied. There will be no L in this chapter too, I'm sorry. It's mostly about schemes and plot.

Also thank you **kajmew** for your kind review!

Enjoy.

 **Past**

A week had passed since her conversation with Misa and Monica spent the majority of it in a cottage, immersed in the woods of Trentino, fortunately with very bad reception, alone.

This particular propriety had been bought by one of her father's societies many years ago and Monica had alway found it relaxing despite its small dimensions.

She had fled there after enduring her Grandmother's verbal abuse about her aggravating life-style, lack of a suitable husband, and last but not least her unfathomable desire to spend her life serving her 'insipid' sister.

Oh, and her appearance.

"Never a woman of this family is to be seen as you are now, so disheveled and… sloppy." The older woman had told her with a disgusted tilt of her pointed nose.

"Even your mother had known better than that."

Her mother, Enemy Number One (ENO) in Gran's opinion.

Well, if even 'that disgraced harlot' had been better than her, then the situation must be desperate…

She had withstand it like a champion, stoic expression and all, begging her mentally to just let her go, away from there and most of all, alone, so she could finally break down and wallow in self pity.

Once inside her secluded refuge, Monica had cried a lot, screamed even more, broke various sets of plates, glasses, vases and other trinkets just laying around and walked.

She had walked around the thick woods around the house, dwelling over her predicament, half of the time spent between denying it all, blaming it to her overactive imagination and overworked mind, and panicking about the future.

Would Misa want her to… Contribute to the cause?

To prove her loyalty to 'Kira-sama' and her?

She had no intention of becoming a murderer.

Could she just tell the police?

She hadn't had the courage to watch what had happened with Sakura TV but she knew that people had died, in front of thousands of spectators. That had been the work of her sweet, little sister.

How could she?

In the year she had spent in Japan with the bubbly blonde, Monica had developed a deep affection for her, despite the childish behavior and the penchant for tantrums.

Because, despite the tragedy she had to endure, Misa had been strong and was still so full of life, Monica had admired her for that. But Misa had also the power of making her feel wanted and needed.

The brunette had never been a social person, had difficulties at forging friendships, perceived as snobbish and frigid by her peers at High school and University.

But she wasn't like that.

Her strict education and the weight of the expectations from her Grandmother had always restrained her from showing her real self.

As a result of this she became a little socially inept and, used to interact with older crowds, she had never felt at ease with people her own age.

But with Misa…

With Misa it had been easy.

Her sister had latched onto her like a vice and showed her love, even physically, with hugs and kisses, something that she had never been accustomed to, and had accepted her for who she was, sometimes clumsy and goofy, sometimes irritable and brooding and most of the times snarky.

Sure they had their problems but with Misa's loving personality and her forgiving one, it had worked well.

The model had been able to wreck the walls she had built around her in just a little time.

It probably happened because Monica had allowed it, she had always been good at keeping people at a distance before…

Whatever, it happened, and now she found herself in a difficult situation, between a rock and a hard place, per say.

Never, never in billions years she had thought of finding herself in such a predicament.

In the past, often after hearing about gruesome homicides on television, she had pondered about what she would do if she had discovered that a friend or a sibling was indeed a criminal or worse, a killer.

The thought had always been in passing, a joke, it was perceived as far fetched as she had no real friends and an estranged sister, so no ties there.

In the past the answer had always been simple, a loud and resounding yes, she would report them to the authorities and let the police take care of the scum. Plain and simple.

Now that she was in the middle of it though, it wasn't that easy.

Not easy at all.

First and foremost the thought of seeing her sister behind bars was unsettling at best and straight out horrifying in reality.

Just the principle of losing one's freedom was terrifying to Monica. Not being able to just lay outside in the sun feeling its warmth on the skin, breathing fresh air whenever she wanted, having zero privacy and staying with other dangerous inmates made her want to sit in a corner and tremble in fear.

Losing her freedom was indeed her personal nightmare.

Still, Misa was a killer.

God, she still couldn't wrap her mind onto it…

But, even if she could stomach the notion of reporting her, there was still the matter of the real Kira, this 'Light' whom she didn't know anything about, apart the fact that he enjoyed spending his free time killing criminals.

Well, mostly criminals.

She could still remember clearly the Lind L. Taylor mess.

He couldn't genuinely know that the man on screen was actually a death row inmate, for all he knew he had killed an innocent man, worse, a man of the law.

She could find information about Light she supposed, It wasn't such a common name after all, but the sad truth was that she was scared shitless of him.

Yeah, she had never been brave, a Hufflepuff if you were feeling generous.

Still, that fucker could kill her in any moment if he got a whiff of her disloyalty, she had no doubts on the fact that Misa had already told him everything about her.

Currently Monica was soaking into a tub of hot water, swirling in her right hand an elegant glass, that had miraculously escaped the carnage of the previous days, filled with red wine, a balm for her rattled nerves, and was deep in thought.

Distracted as she was she never noticed the huge shadow that came across her bathroom until it was in front of her.

"Moni-chan." A deep voice echoed in the small room.

Monica screeched like a banshee, throwing the unfortunate glass behind her, shattering it in million pieces, and scrambled to get out of the tub only managing to slip further down and gulp a mouthful of soaped water.

"It was not my intention to startle you, Moni-chan. However there is a matter of utmost importance that I must discuss with you. It concerns your sister." The female reaper continued while the brunette struggled to breath between chokes of water.

"Whhatt…happened..?" She managed to rasp out, while shielding her generous chest from the Shinigami's view.

Now that she took a good look at her, she could see that she looked strange, she almost seemed agitated.

With a solemn expression Rem answered.

"Misa has been arrested."

Monica gaped.

"What? How?!" She asked agitated, while getting out of the tub and quickly putting on a bathrobe .

This wasn't the time for modesty.

"They took her after she went visiting… Light, at his school. I heard them say they found.. They called it 'evidence', at your house."

Monica stopped dead still in the middle of the living room.

"Fuck! Did they find the notebook?"

Rem shook her head.

"No, after talking to you she gave it to Light. He gave it back to me the night she was taken then asked me to find someone driven by greed and who wouldn't follow Kira's principles to the letter and then give the notebook to them." The Shinigami explained narrowing her eye.

She obviously didn't like this Light so much.

Well, neither did she for that matter.

What a fucking mess indeed.

They were probably looking for her too at this point, but it wouldn't be easy to reach her even for someone like this super detective, L or whatever his name was.

It would take them weeks to track down this propriety that was under the name of one of the many societies her deceased father's group owned, the majority of which she would inherit after her twenty-fifth birthday, and her grandmother didn't even know exactly where she was, and even if she did she would never tell the police anything.

Also they were slightly intimidated by the Rizzo's Matriarch and her power.

In essence, she had some time before being caught and interrogated.

"What is this Light's endgame, Rem-san?"

Monica asked biting her lip.

"I do not know the specifics, but he made Misa ask me to kill L.

In return he will not harm any of you two. Or I will kill him."

The girl snapped her head in her direction, surprised and touched.

"He wanted to kill us."

"He did not specifically said so, To me, however, the intent was clear." Rem replied while looming over her.

"I-I… I really don't know h-how to express my gratitude."

Monica felt tears of shock, of sadness run down her cheeks.

"There is no need to thank me, Moni-chan. My only objective is to keep you both safe."

The brunette hesitantly lifted a hand and rested it on the reaper's bony arm.

It was cold, it reminded her the time she discovered her old cat, Spunk, under her Grandmother's bush of Tea roses, dead.

An unnatural kind of coldness that a live body could never achieve while still breathing.

After hearing what this entity had threatened to do for both her and Misa's sake, she found this chilling touch strangely comforting.

She looked up when she heard a sharp intake of breath to see Rem stare at the point where they were touching in shock, then slowly lift her other arm and place the huge skeleton hand attached to it over hers ever so gently.

"Thank you Rem-san, I'm aware of what it would cost you."

She told her honestly, eyes glinting with unshed tears.

"You are welcome, Moni-chan."

They stayed in silence for a moment as Monica pondered about her next possible moves.

"Do you think Misa will confess?" She asked with a heavy heart.

"No, your sister renounced the notebook's propriety. She doesn't remember ever owning it."

The brunette gasped and widened her eyes.

"She's like before? She doesn't remember being Kira?"

The Shinigami shook her head and floated towards the window, turning away from her.

"Exactly. She does not even know why she is imprisoned. She thinks it's the act of a stalker." There was a sad undertone in her voice.

"Do you know what kind of evidence they have on her?"

"Fibers and something about the cassettes she sent to the television station."

The Shinigami replied while gazing at the woods out of the window.

Monica sat heavily on the couch then lowered her bust and took her head in her hands, gripping her hair tightly.

"Damn it…"

That kind of evidence in her house could be damning for both of them, and the fact that she had fled to Italy on such short notice would be considered suspicious too.

What a mess. She needed to think, to elaborate a plausible excuse for her behavior without sounding distrustful or damning Misa.

"I can make you forget everything, just like your sister."

Monica was startled out of her thoughts by the deep voice of the female reaper, it held once more a tinge of sadness.

She turned her head to stare at her but only the reflection on the glass could be visible.

The brunette pondered the offer for a moment, analyzing the possible outcomes of such decision.

"No."

Her words prompted a reaction from the Shinigami who turned quickly in her direction, bones crinkling together to make a ghostly sound. Monica could fell the one eyed intense stare on her.

"No, Rem-san. To try to get ourselves out of this mess I need to know everything possible. I absolutely don't trust Kira, he wields this tremendous power and if nobody, not even this elusive L, has been able to catch him or even get a little suspicious about him, he must be very clever and careful. Also cold as ice if he can kill hundreds of criminals without battling an eye. If that wasn't the case then the people around him, his peers since he's still at school, or his family would have thought something was off. He must be a great actor at least."

Rem kept staring at her, now with an intrigued glint in her yellow eye. She continued.

"He must have a plan to escape this situation. I understand that you demanded him to get Misa out of her predicament, is it right?"

After the Shinigami's nod she kept going.

"Then we have to be very careful and I need to catch up with everything before returning to Japan and face the music.

Now Rem-san, I need you to lend me your notebook, so I can memorize the rules written on it. Knowledge is power they say, and against this mastermind and the police we need every advantage we can get our hands on. You still have to give the Death Note to another person after I'm done, I'm afraid. I definitely don't trust that Kira asshole not to hurt us if you don't comply, and I really don't want you to sacrifice yourself."

Monica finished her speech looking at the other occupant of the room with a determined stare. It was time to stop hiding and put her big girl's pants on. She needed to become the woman of steel her grandmother had unsuccessfully tried to shape her into.

Rem tilted her head, regarding her silently then her violet lips morphed into a little grin that showed a sharp fang.

"Misa-chan told me her sister was clever and strong willed. Now I see it." She floated near the couch, handing her the notebook.

The brunette blushed a little at the praise and took the dreaded object, opening it and started browsing.

She frowned.

"How many rules does this thing have? It would take me ages to memorize all of them and I do not trust myself not to forget one or mess them up. It's just too important. Unfortunately for us Rem-san, I do not have an eidetic memory."

She got up, still flipping through the pages while humming softly.

"I must write them down… But then the police might find them and start asking uncomfortable questions. I just need somehow to hide them but… Yes! My code!"

She beamed and ran barefooted into her room, rummaging into her bag and taking out a red school notebook with a triumphant yelp, then returned into the small living room.

"Ok, this notebook holds some of my most sensible translations, the kind that only very few people in the world can decipher. They are in a code that I had to develop after my supposed boyfriend tried to steal my research and take the merit for it. What a douchebag." She growled the last part remembering that asshole's almost successful scheme, while sitting at the kitchen table and taking out a pen.

The Shinigami floated to loom behind her shoulders and stared at her in confusion.

"Are you sure the police will not understand it?"

Monica snorted.

"It's an incomprehensible mix of ancient languages, all scrambled up. Only I am able to decode it." She assured the reaper, her voice betraying her pride.

"I'll even put them between other unfinished translations so that it would be even more difficult to grasp any of it. Rem-san, get your self comfortable, we're in for a long night."

Monica rolled up her sleeves and got to work, squinting her green eyes and biting her lower lip.

"Are you sure you don't want anything Rem-san? I'm not joking, I'll be up all night and most of the morning to shape this thing up. Some wine? Water? I must have some apples lying around…"

The Shinigami perked up at the mention of said fruit.

"Maybe an apple, if you would be so kind." She mumbled in her rich baritone.

Monica rose from her seat to fetch the bowl holding the shiny fruits and settled it on the smoke table in front of the couch.

"Help yourself Rem-san, here in Trentino they have delicious apples, widely known all over the world. Come, sit on the couch."

Monica beamed at Rem before returning to her complicated task.

Well into the night the brunette came across a particular rule.

"The Shinigami eyes… Half of… Is this what Misa has Rem-san? The Shinigami eyes?" She asked with a sense of dread, praying that the answer would be negative.

Rem, who was sitting on the couch about to finish a sweet and delicious apple, stilled.

Her shoulders slumped and with a regretful tinge in her voice she replied.

"Yes, Moni-chan. Misa read the rules just as you are doing now and asked me if she could be able to identify Kira by just a look with that particular asset."

Monica tensed up, clenching her fists and nearly snapping the pen in her hold.

"Couldn't you just lie to her?" She gritted out harshly, anger clouding her mind like a red haze.

"Unfortunately not, Moni-chan. I am bound to that book now and I must submit to its rules just as the owners do. If they ask for the eyes, the Shinigami is obliged to comply." Rem explained calmly while looking at her.

Monica took two deep breaths to unsuccessfully try to calm her nerves. She slowly got up, pinching the bridge of her nose.

"Please Rem-san, excuse my behavior for a minute."

She spoke in a deceiptful calm monotone before grabbing the chair she had been sitting on and proceeding to systematically smash it on the kitchen counter while screaming about stupid bottle blondes and crying out colorful curses in various languages.

As a result the white marble counter was chipped in several places, the chair was wrecked and Monica was spent and out of breath.

The reaper stared at the scene with her one eye wide open, torn between marveling the strength of such a petite young human female and being surprised by the fact that an apparently loving and caring creature like Monica could host such a dark and dangerous side.

Said person abandoned herself heavily on the floor landing on her posterior, then brought her knees to her chest, hugging them tightly.

"I'm sorry Rem-san. S-sometimes..I-I.. It's like I feel too much and I-I need to… Half of her life.. She gave up half of her life for a murderer! She started to kill for him!" She spoke with a small voice and ended with a pitiful whine, that reminded the reaper of Misa.

"Do not worry Moni-chan, your reaction to Misa's behavior is understandable."

The calm rich baritone of the Shinigami helped Monica to ground herself and she got up with a sigh, turning her back to Rem and taking another chair to sit down and resume her work.

"Still, I'm sorry Rem-san."

The next day and three pots of coffee later Monica asked questions to the Shinigami, trying to get as much info as possible.

So they suspected Light it seemed, that's how her sister had been brought under their attention. This L must be good then, catching the culprit without even knowing how he kills was a serious accomplishment.

The news of the famous detective's prowess was not so great for Monica, who now had another formidable foe to face.

"Ok Rem-san, I'm as ready as I might ever be. Unfortunately my vacation will be cut short, I'll take a flight to Japan tomorrow. First I have to sleep and to contact my grandmother." She grimaced at the last part.

"After you find who you are looking for, can you return to me sometimes? We need to stay contact as much as possible to have a winning chance at this."

Rem snapped her head up in surprise.

"I.. Yes, but for very short amounts of time, as I am bound to the owner."

"Mmmm… So I really won't have any means of contacting you?" She asked but the reaper remained silent.

Monica thought back at the rules written on that wretched thing and an idea bounced in her mind. Her stomach dropped but the stakes were just too high to be squeamish.

"What if.. What if I become the owner of the book and I lend it to whomever you'll find? Will I be able to summon you?"

She managed to utter.

Rem smirked at the girl.

"Yes, you will. I will give you a piece of a page in case anything happens and you need me." The Shinigami tore a small scrap from one of the last pages of the black book.

Monica felt a wave of nausea overwhelm her but she pushed it back down like a pro, taking the small piece in her right hand.

"I'm not gonna write any name in that." She stated, more for herself than for Rem who nodded in understanding.

"It might look suspicious to have a blank piece of paper on my person though." She considered, biting her lip.

"I-if I write.. Mmm something like a.. Number on it.. Will I.. Will I go into nothingness too?" She asked with a small voice.

The Shinigami smiled and shook her head.

"Only names, Moni-chan." She reassured the young woman.

With a nod Monica wrote down a small number, her hand trembling slightly.

"It's Misa's ATM code, if someone asks I'll tell them I never remember it and that she lends it to me often enough, which is actually true." She stated, getting some of her wits back.

Monica cleared her throat.

"So… Good bye Rem, we'll see each other soon."

Monica stretched out her hand, after a moment it was engulfed by Rem's huge skeleton one.

"Good bye, Moni-chan."

As the reaper floated out of the window, the brunette added a last farewell.

"Be careful Rem!"

The entity turned and with a small smile replied

"You too, Moni-chan."

With that Rem disappeared and Monica found herself once more alone. She hugged her small waist and sighed, thinking with dread about the days to come.

DNDNDNDNDNDNDNDNDNDNDNDNDNDNDNDNDNDNDNDNDNDNDNDN

 **Present**

Another boring day went out, Monica passed it at home doing some chores and watching some re-runs of her favorite sit com.

She had always been a lonely person, craving silence and solitude over crowds, parties and people in general.

After living with her sister and the others, first in hotel rooms and then in Ryuzaki's compound though, had her spoiled for company.

Especially theirs.

Matsuda, with his cheerfulness that had many times grated on her nerves, especially in the mornings, and his inherent ability to always look at the bright side, Mogi and Aizawa, the fist silent and hardworking, the second brooding and prone to fits of anger, that so reminded her of herself, both ready to offer a smile or a glance of support in the worst days of the investigation.

The ever present Watari, deceitfully bright and sharp, but also soothing and helpful, and the Chief, Yagami-san, such a whole man, bound by integrity, a rock in their darkest moments. He would have been devastated if he ever fount out Light was, in fact, Kira. Monica was certain he would have killed himself.

Misa, as she was before the notebook and Kira, so full of love and life, even if at times the brunette found her downright embarrassing and had the compulsion to just smack her in the head. Still she had been her first real friend and she understood her, and her occasional need for solitude.

Even Light, as not Kira, had been somewhat a friend.

Humorous glances shared at Misa's or Riuzaki's weird quirks, common interests in ancient Greek literature, of all the things, an intellect so sharp that it was at times hard to keep up with him.

All of this potential would have been wasted if he had became that monster once more.

It must have been the Death Note or its Shinigami, Ryuk or something, that influenced him with its dark powers, it was the only explanation she could come up with after knowing the person he was without its ownership.

Or maybe that was the excuse she gave herself at night, while thinking of all the people who had died and whose real murderer would never be brought to justice.

And Ryuzaki… He had mind-blowed her from the instant she had set her eyes on him, maybe even before that, just by speaking to his computerized voice.

All his oddities, the stage habits, and his wretched posture, a chiropractor nightmare for sure, his enormous consumption of sweets, they had left her stunned at first, but then… She had started to find them cute and endearing.

Like the way he wiggled and scratched his toes when he was deep in thought, or the way his long fingers drummed on his knees as he stared unblinkingly at a computer monitor.

And his brain.

He was just so clever, smart, his deductive powers were tremendous and she often found herself in awe of them. Sometimes when she was in the room as he was working on other international cases, one moment he could be pouting or spinning around his chair like a child and the next he was deducing the profile of an American serial rapist, therefore finding the culprit or tell where and when an untraceable world known thief would strike, making it possible for the police to catch him.

Ryuzaki's brain was, simply put, amazing.

She had became good at deciphering the nuances of his usually blank eyes, when he found something humorous, or when he was irritated, usually by poor Matsusa, or when he was downright pissed. The different glints were barely there, he had after all an unemotional facade to maintain, but she could grasp them.

Monica didn't really know how she had managed to achieve that, but she did.

He was also often brunt, harsh and ruthless to other people.

Never with her.

The had… Flirted, in an awkward, never direct way, bantering in various languages, he had a sharp, dry sense of humor that never failed to amuse her.

Their exchanges left her breathless and excited, she had never felt more herself and alive than with him.

She missed all of them, like someone would miss a limb.

That band of misfits that fit so well together.

Now she was alone, she had to accept that as the only possible outcome of her actions.

If she had let Kira win, then Ryuzaki and other thousands people would be dead or on the verge of dying, If she had let L win then Misa and Light's lives would be over, and their families would have come out of it destroyed.

Yes, she had chosen the best possible outcome for all of this.

But she had to give up everything for that, It was a high price to pay, but the stakes had also been very high to start with.

If she had stayed, she would have had to kiss her freedom good-bye forever.

Ryuzaki had in fact suspected her immediately, and asked her to give the damned notebook back.

But she hadn't had the fucking thing anymore, it was a pile of ashes in a forest.

No, she still had the scrap that Rem had given her to be honest.

Maybe she should have just given that to him then.

She could have said it had been a laundry accident…

No, if she had told him she had burned it he would have asked about the fake rules.

'Why are we not dead Moni-chan? How did Moni-chan know that we wouldn't die?'

That would have opened a humongous can of worms.

No, it was better like this, they were all safe and sound and she was alone.

Monica took out the scrap of Death Note from her wallet and caressed it thoughtfully.

Almost immediately the familiar sound of rattling bones echoed in the room and the brunette's frown morphed into a huge smile as she quickly turned her head towards the noise.

"Rem!"

Now she was not so alone anymore.


	4. Chapter 4

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Death Note or its characters.

 **Author's note:** Hi! I want to thank all of you who reviewed, followed or clicked the Favorite button, I'm humbled, really.

Enjoy!

 **Past**

The next day found a refreshed and comfortably dressed Monica, ready to head to Malpensa's Airport and board the private jet she had arranged for previously. She would land in Tokyo the following day.

Taking a deep breath she grabbed the car's phone and dialed her Grandmother's number, waiting impatiently for her doom. This call would be essential to gather more informations about what was going on and to plant the seeds of a plan that could potentially get herself and Misa out of trouble.

"Oh so now you deign yourself to call your poor Grandmother, Monica? After all I've been through to raise you and to keep the police out of our business and now your business. Why are you involved in all of this? I would bet all my fortune that this is the work of that wretched girl, the spawn of that harlot you called mother."

What a nice greeting indeed, this would not be pleasant.

Not at all.

The brunette composed herself at the best of her abilities before answering with a calm, collected timber.

"Hello to you too Grandmother. How are you?"

She couldn't help the sarcasm that permeated through her voice.

"You insolent brat! The police has been camped out of the family's villa for three days now! They are looking for you, they want to take you back to that Asian place you decided to live in. I really don't understand you! Italy is the most beautiful country in the world! Why are you insisting on living in that savage land! You're just like your mother!"

So, yes, her grandmother was also a prejudiced hag.

"Why is the police looking for me? Did they tell you anything?" Monica continued, straight out ignoring the elder's racist rant, trying to steer the conversation where she wanted.

"You're even demanding my help now?" The older woman's haughty voice was really starting to get on Monica last nerves. She grounded herself by clenching the fist placed on her lap.

"Yes, Grandmother, if you would."

She drawled calmly, but inside her chest, ruby red flames were swirling with the need to burst out and just consume everything around her. That pretentious bitch didn't even have the slightest idea what deep shit she was swimming into, and was acting all highly and mighty, not being useful at all.

"They arrested that cheap prostitute you call sister and her agent or whatnot, for drugs. Drugs, Monica! Christ Almighty! Never has this family been related to such.. such lowly criminals! Scum.."

The brunette wanted to burst in a hysterical laugh at that comment.

 _Not in the open at least._

Still… Drugs?

So they didn't want the general public to know that her sister was suspected of being Kira junior…

This might come to be extremely useful.

"I'm sure this is all a misunderstanding Grandmother, I will just go there and fix the problem immediately." She replied with pose, longing to just press the little red button that would end this painful conversation but knowing that she had a huge favor to ask that despicable crone.

"Oh no Monica you don't!"

The roar that came through the receiver surprised the girl.

So sweet Granny was royally pissed, eh?

"I kept silent during you foolish crusade to stay by that little brat's side, living under her shadow, in another country! Now I will solve everything and to thank me you'll stay here and find yourself a rich and suitable man to marry and let him take care of your fortune so you can play your little games, translating silly things that nobody gives anything about!"

Monica snapped.

Like an old rope that had been pulled in too many directions in the span of its whole life.

She finally snapped.

"Shut up Rachele!" She roared like a lioness.

"W-What..How dare you!" The old woman stuttered out in shock at her granddaughter's tone.

"If you want to have a place to live and money to buy all your stupid jewels, clothes and trinkets after I soon reach twenty five, you will shut up!" She snarled like a beast, even more enraged now that she had been interrupted.

"You said it right. My fortune. As it is, in fact, all mine. You could never touch it, never change anything, uhm? Only allowed crumbs by father's will. Maybe he knew you very well then, I'll have to send more flowers to his grave."

She managed to smoother the red haze that had clouded her mind to regain her wits.

"Now listen, Rachele, and listen well. I will double the amount of what father allowed you and let you live in whatever Rizzo's propriety could manage to host your enormous ego. But first you have to call our major company and make them contact the best Japanese law firm that they can find in Tokyo. Money is not an issue, to be clear. Are you following me?"

"Yes" The older woman gritted out.

"Good. Now when I'll land in Japan I will be taken in and interrogated by the police. I do not know the local legal system, so they'll have me at disadvantage. If after three days following my arrival I do not call you, you must unleash the lawyers, and with them you must wreak havoc and demand explanations on why your precious, law-abiding granddaughter is kept away and imprisoned like a lowly criminal. Because I am really valuable to you, isn't it right Rachele? If something happens to me then all my mighty fortune will go to my father's buddy, yes, the one you thought I knew nothing about. His lover."

She heard the other woman gasp.

"Never knew daddy liked penis, must have been such a great scandal." She mused thoughtfully.

"Shut up you demon brat! I'll do as you ask!" Grandmother growled.

Monica felt the urge to giggle, she had never heard that woman so distressed.

Payback is a bitch, they say.

This shit was fun!

"Now I would appreciate it if you could manage do another small, little thing for me."

She paused contemplating her nails. She was in a dire need of a manicure, she would just had to do it herself on the flight then.

"The nerve of you.."

"Wanna make one less zero on your monthly allowance, Rachele? I said shut up!"

That woman had the power of transforming her into a savage beast.

"When the police will ask you about the reason of my trip here in Italy, you will tell them that you ordered my presence to sign some documents about your future allowance. Marco, my lawyer, has them. I took advantage of this trip to spend some time relaxing in Trentino. Is that clear?"

"Crystal." Rachele gritted out.

"You need to sound very convincing Gran, I know you can do it."

"Of course." The older woman answered, composing herself.

"Good-bye Monica, have a nice flight."

The brunette snorted.

"Oh, but thank you Granny! Always a pleasure! Good-bye."

She retorted cheerfully before hanging up.

She slumped back in her seat taking a huge breath and feeling drained after the call from hell that had just ended.

The twelve hours flight was spent between sleeping, preparing herself mentally for the task to come, trying not to freak out while doing so, and grooming herself at the best of her abilities.

She needed to put on a strong front, to look like the offspring of a powerful family so she made an effort on her appearance, taking a shower and putting on light make up, designed to enhance the sharpness and the color of her eyes.

At least she hoped so.

She added some discrete jewelry to the mix, aiming for a classy look.

Just before boarding off, she put on designer high heeled shoes, crossing her fingers and hoping to be able to walk normally and not as if she was stepping on eggshells.

Staring at her reflection in the mirror, Monica thought she looked good enough for her part.

With a sigh she descended the stairs of her private airplane and made her way into the crowded airport, cursing internally heels and whoever had the terrible idea of inventing them. Her feet were already asking for mercy.

She stopped to check in at customs before heading out of the airport to call for a taxi, a porter trailing after her with her light luggage.

Monica switched on her phone and widened her eyes at the sheer amount of messages in her inbox.

"Rizzo Monica?" A voice butchering her name startled her from the perusal of her phone.

After glancing up absentmindedly towards the source of the noise, the brunette did a double take, gaping unattractively at the sight of several men all dressed in black and with their faces somewhat obscured.

What the hell was going on?

Were they trying to snatch her from a crowded airport?

Were these people crazy?

"Is this some kind of half-arsed kidnapping attempt?"

She asked, putting the phone in her purse and raising her hands while the poor bellboy behind her gave out a frightened yelp.

The man closest to her made a try at catching her left arm while the others closed in when she succeeded in dodging the attack.

"We are the police ma'am. You need to come with us."

A deep voice coming from her right ordered her sternly.

She managed to battle various hands coming at her way, they probably didn't want to cause a major scene in front of an international airport but people were coming closer, some taking out cameras to record the show. Sure as hell the sight of a slip of a smartly dressed woman being surrounded by masked men was meant to cause a little commotion.

"Let me have a look at your badges and I'll come willingly."

She shouted in distress while glaring spitefully at the hooded man closest to her.

They all seemed to hesitate before the one on her left took out his police ID and the others followed.

The hesitancy looked suspicious, it could be blamed on the fear of her being Kira but it also could mean that somebody was giving them orders. This could imply that someone might be already watching her, perhaps that elusive detective, L.

Or maybe she was just being paranoid.

But why send seven burly and hooded agents to grab a 5.2 feet woman?

It was a little over the top in her opinion.

Or maybe a scare tactic? Better be as compliant as possible.

"All right gentlemen, I'll come with you."

She said agreeably keeping her hands raised as a sign of surrender but when one of the men made a move to grab her arm, she turned sharply to glare at him in disdain, all calmness gone from her eyes.

"Don't you dare touch me. I said I'm coming willingly. There is no need for restraint."

She snarled loud enough for the gathered crowd to hear.

It worked like a charm, the people began muttering and looking at the men in contempt.

Monica managed to catch a growl coming from the one who had attempted to take a hold of her as he graciously directed his hand to the middle of her back, guiding her towards a black van parked hazardously over the sidewalk.

"I hope that thing has seats, or else I'll leave a bad review for your services."

The agent growled louder and pushed her rather viciously inside the car after he opened the sliding door, ignoring the outraged gasps from the crowd.

Monica had the sudden urge to laugh hysterically.

God, what was she getting into again?

Once properly seated, squeezed between two of her captors, she was promptly handcuffed.

"Isn't this a little too much sir? What can I do, scratch you to death?"

She needed to tone down the snark coming out of her mouth but she was scared shitless in this moment. It was a sort of coping mechanism for Monica.

"Keep quiet!" The one on her right snarled in her face. She turned in his direction to give him a piece of her mind when suddenly a black hood was placed on her head from behind, obscuring her sight completely.

A wave of utter, unbridled panic submerged her and clouded her mind. She could feel the uncomfortable warmth and humidity of her breaths on her cheeks, she had no room to breathe despite the cotton texture of the cloth around her face.

Not this pitch darkness, no, never again shoved in a dark closet, never again, no.

She was strong now.

She had promised herself that a long time ago and Monica Rizzo never broke her promises.

Monica snapped and tried to pry the thing off her face only to be gripped harshly by her wrists. She began struggling with all her might, using her high heels to kick her captors, slamming shoulders against whoever she could catch. She even tried to bite the one in front of her.

They were shouting, groaning in pain after her hits, threatening to sedate her and at that she renewed her efforts with doubled ardor.

"Stop! Stop, damn it. We'll take it off if you keep still!"

Monica ceased her struggles almost immediately and kept still, closing her eyes and begging herself to just calm the fuck down, that she wasn't in the villa and she wouldn't be left alone in a stuffy closet for the night because she hadn't behaved like a good girl, but when she felt someone making a move to grab the cloth, she turned her head abruptly in his direction.

"Don't touch me!" She hissed fiercely and coughed pitifully after chocking on her saliva.

She took three deep, long, shacking breaths to calm her rattled nerves.

She should just keep quiet now, let them take her to wherever their base was and interrogate her.

The plan was in motion and the lawyers on stand-by, she only had to endure this a little longer.

But the fire that burned inside her wasn't going away anytime soon.

"Your puppeteer is very kind to allow you to remove the hood of the hysterical woman… Such a gentleman indeed…"

Monica drawled out, almost in a bored fashion, voice muffled by the black cloth.

The men around her tensed.

They couldn't see her so she allowed a triumphant smirk. She had been right all along it seemed.

Ok, she said her piece, now it was really the time to just shut up and take it all like a champi...

"Well you can go and tell that asshole to shove his kindness up where the sun doesn't shine!"

She heard a collective gasp and snorted.

So Japanese weren't used to rude and crass foreigners yet?

She crossed her slim legs and bounced her knee to make the sharp heel of her black shoe dance dangerously, like a threat.

She could have sworn she heard someone gulp at the sight. Monica knew she got one or two of them good with that impromptu weapon.

They were all silent for a while before somebody cleared his throat.

"Rizzo-san, you are under arrest, suspected of being the second Kira, we are.."

"Is this a joke?" Monica interrupted with an incredulous and indignant tone.

"What? N-no Rizzo-san." Good to know that this one was intimidated by her.

"What is the meaning of this? Second Kira? There is more than one? I'm a world renowned linguist, I work at To-oh, for Christ sake! I do not kill criminals between one translation and the other." She shouted out aggravated.

"Evidence was found at your house.." The one on her left, the backstabbing asshole who had put the hood on her, started before being viciously stopped.

"Yeah, drugs. I came back as soon as I got the news of my sister being arrested, this must be all a misunderstanding." Monica placed her bound hands on her lap after trying unsuccessfully to cross her arms.

"I'm afraid the evidence of you or your sister being Kira is quite incriminating." Another quipped in from the front seats, completely ignoring her words.

Monica clenched her jaw and closed her eyes to shot down her once more rising anger. It was imperative to keep a calm facade, faking shock or indignation accordingly.

"W-What kind of evidence? I-I don't know anything about Kira and my sister would never do something like that! And most of all, why in the name of God do I have to wear this thing on my head? I don't think this is standard procedure!"

"It is just a precaution Rizzo-san."

"For what exactly?! Where are you taking me? I want to call my lawyers." She added with a note of distress in her timbre.

The men kept silent and Monica huffed.

"I want to call my lawyers! This is all highly unorthodox, did you do the same to my sister? Where is she now?" She pressed on, showing more and more anxiety.

"All will be explained Rizzo-san, please bear with this." The meek one tried to pacify.

"The hell with this! I want to call my lawyers. Now. Give me my phone." She gritted out, now displaying anger.

"Just shut up Rizzo-san. We should have just sedated her…" The backstabbing one rebutted. That fucker.

"Sedate me? Are you out of your mind?"

She gave a humorless chuckle.

"Ah, my lawyers will have a field day with this, I just know it. You're all gonna be torn into shreds, starting from the mastermind who's hiding behind all of you. Hello? Do you hear me? You're gonna be trampled by the amount of the lawsuits they will throw at you."

She was starting to get real pissed at this situation. Sure she knew she would be interrogated by the police or this L, just not like this.

It looked illegal. Who was this guy?

"You are quite rude Rizzo-san." An older voice coming from the front seats reproached her sternly.

Was he for real?

She snorted.

"Yeah, try being polite to some guys who grabbed you from the streets, manhandled you into a van, cuffed and blindfolded you then proceeded to accuse you and your sister of being a mass murderer. Just try it, please."

She slumped back in her seat, now royally pissed.

They kept asking her questions and she kept silent, ignoring them ostentatiously.

Once the car stopped, the rude asshole on the left grabbed her arm with more force that it was strictly necessary and tore her away from the seat.

When her feet touched the ground her other arm was clutched in a hard grip and Monica was unceremoniously dragged away.

She felt disoriented without her sight and stumbled several times.

"Mind my shoes you pricks! They're Louboutins."

She growled playing the part of the rich spoiled brat that she had never been. They ignored her.

A few minutes into her forced trek, she heard a door being opened and was shoved inside a cold room and pushed down on an uncomfortable chair.

With her hands she hesitantly tried to feel the space in front of her and found what probably was a desk.

Suddenly the hood was removed from her head and she squinted her eyes, to accustom them to the light.

She looked around. The room was dark but there was a source of an irritating and bright light right in front of her.

After blinking few times to ease her discomfort, she stared at it.

It was a laptop with a big, black, gothic L right in the middle of a white monitor.

Dramatic.

She was almost certain that the detective was behind the screen, watching her with the computer's camera so she morphed her feature into a blank mask.

It was show time.

The best curse of action would be sticking to the truth as much as possible then skim over details, be vague, feign ignorance.

She had a lifetime experience of lying in her old household.

"Greetings Miss Rizzo. I am L."

An electronic modified voice came from the device, speaking an almost flawless Italian.

Still, as a linguist who had worked as a translator for almost a year, she could detect some slight oddities in his speech.

"I took the liberty of addressing you in your mother language to put you more at ease."

There it was.

The rolling of the R and the L hinted at someone more used at speaking the English language.

He was very good though. Very, very good.

She snorted loudly, rattling her handcuffs at the screen.

"You call this putting me at ease Mr L?"

She asked, raising a challenging brow.

"I am afraid such precautions were deemed necessary as a consequence of the circumstances we find ourselves in."

Yes, definitely English. Also very formal and somewhat… Detached.

Not that it was easy with the scrambled voice to detect any inflections of the speech.

"Well Mr L, if you would be so kind to explain why I was brought in this cold, dark room by a bunch of masked men while I was on my way to the police station to discover what happened to my sister, I would be extremely grateful."

She told the screen while glaring angrily at it.

"Of course Miss Rizzo. But first I would like to ask you a few questions, if I may."

Monica stared at the screen for a moment thinking about the best course of action.

"You may." She decided after a beat.

"What were the reasons of your trip to Italy?"

Straight to the point.

She assumed a bored pose, crossing her legs while smothering her skirt.

"I had to sign some documents." She responded vaguely.

"Your departure was very sudden Miss Rizzo."

He stated calmly.

"What Rachele Rizzo demands she usually gets. She wanted me to go back to Rome, the flight had been already arranged."

She explained bouncing her leg lazily.

"The thing is this, Miss Rizzo. It was you who called your Grandmother, not the other way round."

She stopped her movement in surprise but managed to keep up her bored mask.

Had her phone been under surveillance? Did he know what they had talked about?

She decided to lie.

"It was a mere coincidence Mr L, she was about to call me herself." She retorted back smoothly.

The room was silent for a moment and she used the time to steel her nerves.

No, they couldn't possibly know what they had talked about on the phone.

However, this would be an important lesson for the brunette, she had to purchase an untraceable phone for further uses.

"Why did you and your sister decide to move into the Kanto region, Miss Rizzo?"

The strange question broke the train of her thoughts as she blinked dumbly at the screen.

"I received a job offer from To-oh University for a research post. After consulting my sister, I accepted and we decided to move to Tokyo, since she can work from any city due to the nature of her job."

She answered with a slight frown.

Where was he getting at?

"It is eerily peculiar that you chose to do so after the broadcast in which I revealed Kira's location. After all you received the offer three months prior that distinctive event, Miss Rizzo."

Her eyes widened slightly at the realization.

That little… That was why Misa had brought that offer up after ignoring it for three months, to get closer to her 'beloved'.

'It would be good for Moni-chan to work again. Misa will follow her everywhere!' The nerve..

But now she had shown an emotion on her face and she had to roll with that.

"What are you exactly implying Mr L? That we followed this Kira like two mindless groupies? We have better things to do with our lives than that!"

She shouted indignantly.

"Then please Miss Rizzo, explain your motives."

Damn him.

"I was trying to reconnect to my sister in that period and did not wish to spend too much time away from her. But I missed working so Misa encouraged me to accept To-oh proposal, which wasn't the only one, only the most appealing."

"I am quite aware of your accomplishments in your field Miss Rizzo, To-oh Ancient Languages Head of department should count himself lucky to have you on his team."

The compliment sounded somewhat forced and slightly mocking. She didn't really know how to explain it but she found herself a bit insulted rather than praised.

Well, fuck him.

"Mr L, we both know we're not here to discuss about my academic prowess, so please, where is my sister?" Monica asked forcefully.

"Misa Amane is under strict surveillance on the premise of being the second Kira. Due to the alleged ability to kill just by knowing the face of her victims, she has been blindfolded and is monitored continuously." The voice described clinically.

Monica blanched.

What? Blindfolded? Under continuous surveillance? This was a nightmare.

And not legal.

Not fucking legal at all.

"This sounds like a violation of rights! I want to see her. Now!" She demanded angrily, slamming her fists on the desk and making the laptop bounce.

"Please calm yourself Miss Rizzo. The evidence discovered at you house was quite incriminating. The fibers found on the cassettes sent to Sakura TV perfectly mach the ones of your sister's duvet. Furthermore the tapes sent and the ones found in her room are precisely the same type."

Oh God, Misa…

"That still doesn't explain why she's imprisoned in such conditions and most of all why she doesn't have a lawyer!" She retorted back. That computerized monotone was starting to make her really mad.

"We were given a special permission by the ICPO to conduct this particular investigation Miss Rizzo. We must catch Kira by any means necessary."

Any means necessary? Even illegal means?

What the actual fuck?

She gaped silently at the monitor, blinking and trying to process this piece of information.

They gave him carte blanche.

She was starting to get really apprehensive, who was she to compete with someone like that?

Who had such powerful ties?

No, just no.

She had promised Rem they would make it out of this someway, she just needed to regain some form of clarity.

Monica closed her eyes and took a deep breath.

"A question for you Mr L, if I may."

She started tilting her head to the side.

"Go on Miss Rizzo."

"Does the public know that their beloved starlet is being kept in such harsh conditions? And accused of these despicable charges?" She asked sweetly.

There was a pause before he answered.

"Not yet Miss Rizzo. Wha…"

She interrupted him, switching rapidly in English.

"You see Mr L, I'm not quite familiar with the Japanese law system so I may have asked R&F Inc. to contact Kobayashi and Ito Law Firm on my behalf."

She uncrossed her legs and propped her elbows on the desk, intertwining her fingers just under her chin.

"I may have also asked my Grandmother to contact them hastily if I fail to call her in the next three days.

I don't think the ICPO would appreciate a scandal of these proportion out in the open. A popular model and a rich, foreign heiress, two estranged sister who have just found each other again after years, who have never broken the law in any way, treated so brutally."

She scrunched up her nose in a mock grimace.

"Miss Rizzo." The voice now was deeper, almost annoyed. "The allegations on your sister are quite serious I'm afraid."

"Still the conditions of imprisonment and the lack of a lawyer will not be taken well by the general public, don't you think Mr L?" She pressed on, narrowing her eyes.

"We are pursuing a murderer who has killed hundreds of people, and not only criminals, innocent people and officers as well, Miss Rizzo. I do not quite care what the public thinks about me, my only aim is to catch the culprits." A tinge of fierceness could be detected by the end of his speech.

"You may think yourself above all of this Mr L, but what about the ICPO? Will they back you once your questionable methods of seeking justice are disclosed for everyone to see? They do care about the general opinion." She mused, blinking cutely.

"What exactly are you aiming for, Miss Rizzo?"

Good, she had him.

He must not trust the ICPO so much after all.

"I do understand the necessity of keeping my sister under arrest until you finally understand that she is innocent."

The voice interrupted her.

"The killings have stopped after we took her in, Miss Rizzo."

She paused and narrowed her eyes.

"What? Isn't there another Kira? You said she was suspected of being the second Kira."

Was Light trying to frame Misa? But that would be suicidal, Rem would just off him…

No, it was not that.. The Shinigami had said something about L suspecting him..

Shit!

They got him too. He's waiting for Rem to chose the next owner.

God, what a mess..

"We have another suspect in our custody." He confirmed, somewhat reluctantly.

"Well, maybe you're wrong and your other suspect is the one and only Kira. My sister is innocent."

At least now she was.

"I wish to see her and take note of her conditions."

She continued, clearing her throat.

"Not possible."

"I want to see her, even behind a screen or whatever. I want to assess her conditions and if I find them inhuman I want you to change them." She pushed forcefully, narrowing her gaze at the camera.

There was a minute of silence before he spoke again.

"I want you monitored and escorted by an agent at any time. You must also move out of your house and will stay in a hotel room of my choosing."

What the fuck?

She gaped in shock at his words.

"W-What? I.."

"You may not be Kira or the second Kira, Miss Rizzo, but you still lived together with a suspect, and I want you under surveillance every minute of the day."

"T-this is p-preposteous! I.." She sputtered indignantly before being interrupted once more.

"Take it or leave it, Miss Rizzo, though I will still have you followed."

She deflated, putting her hands on her lap and staring at them while biting her lower lip.

He evidently had the power to bend the legal system to his will. A bit of her freedom had to be sacrificed.

How come he knew she wasn't Kira?

"How do you know I'm not Kira or Kira junior or whatever you call it."

Monica asked in a small voice, suddenly tired of all this situation, longing for her bed and to just sleep for one or ten years.

"You were always at work Miss Rizzo. When the letters and the tapes were sent, you were in your office or in the library. Fortunately for you, the building that houses your department has an extensive amount of cameras, almost everywhere. Furthermore you do not fit the profile of neither suspect."

He explained, and only now she realized that they had switched to Japanese.

Monica chuckled.

"Lucky me."

"Indeed."

"I-I.. No cameras in the bathroom."

She pleaded, obscuring her blushing face from the camera's view.

"I'm afraid that would be quite impossible Miss.."

"Drop this 'Miss Rizzo' bullshit right now. No cameras that face the toilet or inside the shower!"

She ordered. Her face was burning red from embarrassment.

He paused, actually meditating about the proposition. The perv.

"You have a deal Miss Rizzo."

Monica let out a relieved breath.

"Good, let me see my sister now."

"Tomorrow."

That laptop was risking its life in that moment, as she had the strong urge to toss it against the wall.

"Now."

She growled narrowing her eyes, a green fire burning in them. The detective ignored her burst of anger and addressed her calmly.

"Tomorrow. I believe you must be tired from your trip. Also you must proceed with moving your belongings. My associates will lend you a hand.

Have a good day Miss Rizzo."

With that the screen and the room turned black.

"Asshole!"

Monica muttered under her breath as her heart kept beating madly.


	5. Chapter 5

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Death Note or its characters.

 **Author's note:** Thank you **kajmew** for your words, you're too kind. Also a huge thank you to whoever followed and chose my story as their favorite.

Enjoy.

 **Present**

Monica couldn't sleep on most nights.

Well, that might be not exactly accurate.

With extreme difficulty she could manage to fall into a restless half-sleep state, plagued by gruesome images of faceless strangers dying, clutching their chests and bleeding through their mouths and eyes.

Sometimes the dreams were fuzzy and, frankly, quite illogical, with black and white feathers floating in the air, chasing quills of crimson ink.

Sometimes she would dream of Ryuzaki, his already big onyx eyes, wide and bulging, dying in her arms and whispering: 'Why Moni-chan, you could have saved me'. Usually Light would be behind her in this scenario, a benevolent hand on her shoulder as if to congratulate her and welcome her in his inner circle, an evil smirk on his mouth while surveying the death of his greatest opponent.

That nightmare had the ability to always leave her most unsettled, waking up crying, with rivers of sweat down her back and heart exploding in her chest. It looked so real, the texture of his hair, his face, his smell, his fading warmth.

After, she would repeat over and over to herself that it wasn't true, she had saved him, he was ok, probably hating and cursing her very existence.

And, hey, to do that you had to be alive.

So yes, Monica had to sometimes resort to sleeping pills to get four consecutive hours of shut eye, every two or three days, to function like a proper human being.

Knowing for a fact that most of those aids had the tendency to be addictive and not wanting to became far too dependent on them, she had experimented on different ways to achieve a peaceful state conductive to sleep.

Unfortunately with meagre results.

She had given up on yoga and burning incense and sage, which had only resulted in her long time friend, asthma, rearing its ugly head.

She had started running in the evenings, but even physical activity wasn't of much use.

She still kept that little training up, thinking it would be a useful skill if she ever had to run from cops.

Or enraged detectives.

There was a strange thing indeed.

There weren't any internationals warrants for her capture.

Nothing.

Now, she had taken care of her family situation before becoming a fugitive, leaving her share of the companies to her father's associate, that asshole Frizzi, who in return had false documents and certificates made up to guarantee her a successful escape. Her grandmother had her allowance and her villa and she even took care of her father's lover.

The deal was they wouldn't make any fuss of her absence, blaming some sabbatical shit or that she had run to find the real meaning of this life.

But the NPA?

They had known her implication in the magical vanishing of the Death Note in their custody.

Finding L and Watari drugged and locked up would have also been a substantial statement of her culpability.

So why weren't they looking high and low for her all over the world?

Why indeed…

Was.. Was Ryuzaki looking for her?

That thought unsettled her for two simple reasons.

Firstly Ryuzaki was, in her opinion, the most intelligent and resourceful man in the whole world, so having someone like him on your tail would mean being found, sooner rather than later.

Especially if that incredibly smart someone had a personal vendetta against you.

Secondly, what would happen to her once she was found?

If there weren't any warrants for her capture, there wasn't even an official case build on her.

They could just make her disappear, hell, her family wasn't actively looking for her. Even Misa.

If nobody was looking for her, when, and she noted the fact that she used when and not if, the detective would manage to catch her, he could do just about anything to her.

And somehow she couldn't imagine being swept off her feet and carried into his bed to be passionately ravaged.

More like thrown in a dark dungeon and tortured until she confessed.

Maybe she was just being paranoid…

Whatever.

She had to deal with more pressing matters, such as her insomnia problem. She couldn't really phantom how that man could function with so little sleep, she felt like a zombie on most days.

One night, when staying in New Zealand, she had been particularly exasperated, having slept only five hours per week for two weeks, so she had grabbed her backpack and filled it with essentials, and gone outside. She had climbed atop of the van she had rented and decided to just lay there, staring at the sky while angry tears burned their way down her cheeks.

There had been so many stars that night, she had never seen so many littering the sky. They were somewhat different too, she couldn't find none of the constellations she had studied as a child. Then she remembered that she was in another hemisphere. The soothing light and the sheer magnificence of the view had lulled her into a somewhat comfortable sleep.

Monica discovered that stargazing was the ultimate way of gaining a night of sleep, but she never abused of this notion.

A week after Rem's visit, the brunette was in dire need of said remedy, so she climbed in her car to reach a secluded place, that she had already tested before. It would guarantee her privacy and solitude.

Monica started to map the sky as someone would count sheeps, tracking easily Alpha Centauri and the Southern Cross when suddenly her left eye caught something in her peripheral view.

She tensed gripping the pocket knife she always carried on her person.

Turning her head in the direction of the disturbance she couldn't actually see anything, it was too dark, but she felt a strange feeling creeping upon her.

A feeling of being watched.

She scrambled off the roof of the car and climbed inside, starting the engine and speeding away almost immediately, while checking continuously the rearview mirror.

Monica cursed herself repeatedly for her stupidity. She had grown too comfortable and lazy, foregoing the procedures she had created to guarantee a modicum of safety.

Christ, she had even forgot to bring the bag with the false documents and money with her. She would need to get home, grab the bag then ditch the car, hoping that nobody would be already expecting her.

This might seem drastic and a little over the top. Maybe it had been just an animal, watching her from the shadows or maybe it was just a figment of her sleep deprived mind.

Paranoid.

But paranoia had saved her quite a few times in the past, and also allowed her to be still alive and free.

DNDNDNDNDNDNDNDNDNDNDNDNDNDNDNDN

 **Past**

Her head was exploding.

The tension of her confrontation with the famous detective had left her tired, a bone deep fatigue that made her limbs heavy and her head pulse in time with her heart.

She looked out of the van's window, now accompanied by only two of the previous seven officers who had forgone their disguises, probably under their boss' orders.

The one driving had a head of chestnut, afro hair and looked quite enraged, jaw clenched and knuckles white around the car's wheel, while the younger one seated next to her had a more gentle air around him and seemed a little nervous.

They had to take her home and help her gather her things.

Under constant surveillance.

God, she wanted to scream.

She didn't even have the strength to rethink about her interrogation, but she strained herself regardlessly, to point out where she could have slipped.

Had she said too much?

Was L aware that she knew more than she did?

Probably yes.

Could she have asked for more? For her sister's release maybe?

No, he wouldn't have accepted that. Never in a million years.

Still there was something that she was forgetting.

Definitely.

It was something about the rules, the last one maybe?

She had been so tired while transcribing them and now her encoded notebook was confiscated so she couldn't even check. They had left her with her clothes, a bottle of water and her pads where the scrap of the Death Note was hidden.

Fortunately she had foreseen that the police would have her stripped of most of her belongings and she chose to hide it in an object that historically made the male population squirm.

She had been right to do so.

The rule. What was that again?

'Fail to write names consecutively for… 31 days? or was it 13? Results in the user's death.'

She chocked on air.

"Are you all right Rizzo-san?" The kind policeman seated next to her asked but she wasn't listening.

Misa!

How many days had passed since she wrote on that thing?

Nine? Ten?

How could Rem be so fucking calm knowing that her sister's days were numbered?

Her headache was threatening to split her head in two and her heart was ramming at an inhuman speed in her ribcage.

"Rizzo-san! Aiz.. Aihara stop the car!"

The commotion snapped her out of her panicked daze.

"I'm.. Fine, sir.. Just.. Tired.. The jet-lag and all…" she trailed off while massaging her aching temples.

"Are you sure Rizzo-san, we can stop.." He continued only to be interrupted by the angry one behind the wheel.

"Matsui! Just drop it. She's fine." He growled while looking at her in contempt through the rearview mirror. She raised a brow at his antics, recognizing him as the asshole who had attacked her with the hood.

"Thank you for your concern, Matsui-san. I'm fine, really." She told him gently with a smile.

He blushed. He actually blushed.

"Y-You're welcome, R-Rizzo-san." He mumbled, embarrassed as his grumpy colleague muttered something under his breath, too low for her to hear.

Really, what was his problem?

Never mind.

She had a huge problem on her hand now, she needed to speak to Rem as soon as possible.

Once inside her apartment she made a beeline for her room to grab a bag, while her tired mind was scrambling to come up with a solution to this predicament.

Were there cameras in the house?

It seemed like L style at this point.

Where could she meet Rem and speak with her without being seen or overheard by the two officers or the supposed cameras?

"Not so fast Rizzo-san. Tell us what you want to take and we will put it away for you." Aihara, or whatever his name was, growled menacingly after joining her in the room.

She gestured towards the closet.

"Grab whatever you want from that closet and put it in this bag. I need to take a shower." She declared while taking her pads and making her way towards the bathroom.

Both men looked taken aback by her words but Aihara recovered fast.

"No way. You stay in our line of sight."

He turned to face her, assuming a threatening posture.

The best course of action would be appealing to their merciful side.

She bit her lower lip, not looking at them in the eyes.

"I.. I had an accident.." She waved her pads embarrassingly "N-now I'm… dirty.. and.."

They both looked horrified now, faces red.

"Y-you can choose the clothes I will change into.. Just please…I'm, like, really uncomfortable.." She mumbled pathetically, hoping that her little scheme would work.

Clothes, sweatpants and a shirt, were thrown in her direction and, with a vengeful glint in her eyes, she asked sweetly for one more thing.

"I-I… need panties too.."

Matsui was by now a shade of crimson that looked almost inhuman while the other gestured for her to just fetch the requested item and leave their sight.

She quickly complied, reaching the bathroom and locking the door.

Monica touched the inside of the pad, aiming for the little scrap of paper with her thumb, praying the Shinigami would appear quickly as she busied herself with stripping and turning on the water.

She climbed inside the shower and began scrubbing herself with her strawberries scented soap.

"Moni-chan?"

Rem looked almost embarrassed by her nudity, her one visible eye, wide. She was probably questioning her sanity by now.

Monica made a circular motion with her right index and mouthed 'cameras?'.

The Shinigami understood after a beat and looked around the stall.

"There is nothing in here Moni-chan."

She breathed a sigh of relief.

"Rem! The rules! They say the user dies if he or she doesn't write any names for 13 or 31 days, I can't remember! What the fuck do we do? I can't free Misa in such a little time!" She whispered distressed, hoping the noise of the pouring water would cover her words.

The huge Shinigami tensed and glanced away.

"Rem! This is serious!"

"That rule is fake Moni-chan."

She gaped like a fish at the words.

"What do you mean?"

Rem seemed hesitant for a moment before looking at her with a determined light in her eye.

"The notebook you own now is not Misa-chan's. It was Light-san's. Ryuk, his Shinigami, added two fake rules."

Monica was speechless.

What the actual fuck?

"What are those?" She asked frowning.

"The thirteen day rule and the last one. The notebook can actually be destroyed without resulting in the death of whoever touched it."

Rem admitted, diverting her gaze.

Why hadn't she told her?

The brunette was dumfounded once again.

"Why didn't you tell me this, Rem?" She asked unsettled.

The Shinigami looked regretful.

"I did not know if I could trust you, Moni-chan. When you expressed regret at your sister owning the Death Note I was afraid you would have destroyed it the first chance you got. That would have resulted in Misa being found guilty."

Monica tried to think about it for a minute but she felt so tired and daunted; the adrenalin that had sustained her during the day was rapidly waning and the lack of sleep of the previous days wasn't helping matters.

She bowed her head, masking the tears that were running down her cheeks.

"I understand Rem-san. However, I want to assure you that I would have never done something like that. I promised to get all of us out of this mess and I never back down a promise." She told her coldly, without looking up.

"Moni-chan…"

"Rizzo-san! You're taking too long. Get out of there right now!" A loud voice accompanied by three bangs against the door reminded her that they weren't alone.

"I'm almost done, sir." She shouted back before addressing the reaper.

"I have to go now Rem-san. I will contact you when I can."

The Shinigami hesitated before slumping her shoulders and nodding her good-bye, disappearing into thin air.

Monica exited the shower, toweling herself off hastily, and dressed in the clothes she had been provided.

Glancing at the mirror, she took in her appearance.

Huge, fatigued, green eyes stared back at her from a pale oval face with visible freckles smattered on the bridge of a small pert nose, chapped dark rosy lips were set in a grimace.

She untied her long wavy hair that fell at the small of her back and proceeded to brush them harshly.

What a mess. What a fucking mess.

She wanted to cry, to smash the damned mirror, to tell those asshole outside her door to just go and fuck themselves.

But she didn't do any of that. Instead she calmly collected her toiletries and made her way outside the bathroom.

"Took you long enough…" Aihara grumbled annoyed while the other was staring at her thin shirt, stretched across her bosom, blushing slightly.

She swiftly grabbed an oversized hoodie to cover herself.

"I'm going to grab some clothes for Misa." She declared, marching towards her sister's room which now resembled a war zone.

"What the fuck happened here?" She asked bewildered.

"We had to collect the evidences Rizzo-san." Matsui offered in a small voice.

"Well, you destroyed almost everything!"

She gestured towards the ripped and overthrown bed, the destroyed creepy dolls Misa was so fond of, even her goth bear was ripped open, the stuffing that was once inside now visible.

Misa loved that thing.

"Maybe the situation isn't clear enough for you Rizzo-san. Your sister is suspected of being a murderer. She killed one of our colleagues in cold blood!" Aihara shouted enraged, a vein popping dangerously on his forehead.

She turned her head not wanting to look at him in the face, least she showed guilt or some other emotion that could condemn her sister.

That was why he was so hateful towards her.

"Misa would never do something like that. This must be some major misunderstanding." She tried to sound convincing.

"Innocent until proven guilty."

He snorted.

"I heard how you weaseled your way into improving your sister's condition. You're nothing but a spoiled brat, used to get what she wants, aren't you?"

She wanted to laugh at that. If only he knew…

"I'm going to grab some clothes, do you need to check them?" She asked ignoring his rude jab.

"Here Rizzo-san, I'll help you." Matsui told her kindly and reached the closet, sidestepping overthrown pieces of furniture on his way.

The brunette dropped on her knees and clasped the ruined bear in her hands.

What was its name again?

Rayo? Ryo?

Ryoto.

Monica was brought inside a fancy hotel room equipped with a small living room, kitchenette and a queen sized bed. She looked around, her skin prickling at the thought of being observed.

Where were the cameras? She couldn't see anything?

Had the detective respected her conditions?

She felt vulnerable and drained.

After kicking off her shoes, she had forgotten to take them off before entering, she dropped heavily on the bed and climbed under the covers, curling into a little ball.

She wanted to sleep so badly, but her tired brain was hyperaware. Almost an oxymoron.

Was L watching her now? Someone else?

Would he deduce something by her fetal position?

This thing, this sick game she had unwillingly entered was proving to be already too much for her.

She thought she had an advantage with Rem, but the Shinigami had withheld substantial information and couldn't be trusted implicitly now.

How could Rem pretend that she could solve this mess without having the whole picture?

She was in the middle of a fucking war between two geniuses it seemed.

Could she and Misa make it out unscathed? At least alive?

Her mental ramblings were interrupted by a knock on her door.

"Rizzo-san? Your presence is requested."

A muffled voice came from behind her door as she rose hesitantly.

"Who is requesting my presence?" She asked wary.

"Come now Rizzo-san and you'll see." The ominous voice replied.

What the fuck.

She was tired of this shit.

"I won't come out of this damned room if I don't know who I'll be meeting and where I'll be going."

Monica didn't actually care if her words sounded bratty or bitchy, she had complied with everything they had asked her so far, now they were pulling at her strings a tad too much.

"Do you not want to see your sister Miss Rizzo?"

The detective's computerized voice came from the ceiling and startled her so much that she jumped a little.

Were there speakers in her room?

"Mr L, I thought you said tomorrow."

She gritted out, her anger flaring at this further invasion of her privacy.

"And I thought you were eager to see your sister Miss Rizzo."

She narrowed her eyes.

Why did he change his mind in the span of four hours?

What could he possibly achieve? Was he just being courteous?

She didn't know him enough to gauge his character.

Monica wanted to see her sister, but she was so tired and didn't know if she could sustain another showdown with the detective…

Bingo.

He knew she was fatigued and most likely to slip, to make an error. Especially if confronted with the sight of her imprisoned sister.

But if she refused it would look strange, she didn't want to appear too calculating, but neither stupid.

"Why this change of heart Mr L? You seemed pretty resolute in your decision this morning."

"I think it would be beneficial for Amane Misa' s mental health to hear a familiar voice."

He was letting her talk to her sister while hinting at the poor state she was probably in, he was, in short, throwing her a bone so she could be analyzed while at disadvantage.

Well, if she had to risk he had to up the stakes.

"I want to visit her in person. I brought her a change of clothes and I want to help her clean."

"Absolutely not." Was the immediate rebuttal.

"If you are so concerned about my sister's well being then you should allow me to take care of her. I imagine there aren't many women present that could cater her most private needs. I offer myself. You could search or strip me bare if you're concerned about me being a safety hazard." She pressed on.

"Today you can speak to her and leave the clothes. I will think about your proposal carefully before making my decision."

"Give me you word."

"I beg your pardon?" He sounded taken aback.

"Give me your word that you will seriously think about it if you find me trustworthy enough."

There was silence for a moment before he spoke again.

"Fine Miss Rizzo. I give you my word. Now please exit your room. Somebody will be ready to escort you to your destination."

She immediately stood, not really satisfied with the way the conversation had gone to, but still willing to put herself through this arduous task if it meant seeing Misa.

A stocky, tall man with a square jaw greeted her outside the door.

"This way Rizzo-san."

He began walking at a brisk pace down the length of the alley to reach the elevator. He pushed the button for the highest floor.

The penthouse.

Figures.

The door opened upon their arrival and they made their way into a dark room whose only source of light were huge white monitors on top of a high tech console.

Squinting her eyes she could make out a white clad silhouette hunched over said console and perched strangely on a chair.

"Please let yourself in, Miss Rizzo."

The hunched figure spoke without turning to acknowledge her.

His voice was deep and emotionless but it also almost held a… Silky connotation.

It made her shiver. And it sounded familiar.

She covered her slip embracing herself and blaming it on the coldness of the environment.

Monica hesitantly made her way further into the suite, never taking her eyes off the person seated in front of the monitors despite being aware of the presence of other people with them in the room.

She had an hunch that this was the person she had to look out for.

Hovering awkwardly to his right, she took him in.

Midnight black hair were messily framing an extremely pale face, the eyes not visible due to the fact that he was currently perusing some documents, long spidery fingers pinching the extremities of the sheet delicately, as if it were contagious.

His posture… She had never seen someone sitting like that, didn't even think it could be remotely comfortable or, well, even possible, as his knees were brushing his chest while his bottom didn't touch the seat. He was also painfully skinny.

"Take a seat, Miss Rizzo."

He addressed her without moving an inch, almost dismissive in his tone.

This must be L.

There was no other explanation in her mind for the existence of this strange creature beside her.

She complied his request, her movements jerky from the tension and alertness.

Why would the elusive detective L show his face to a possible accomplice of a Kira suspect?

It was rumored that he had never revealed himself, he was almost like a myth.

"I am Ryuzaki Rue, an associate of L."

Monica stayed silent processing this piece of information.

No, this was the real deal, she had spoken a couple of times with L by now and she had payed extreme attention to that man's voice and pattern of speech. The one seated next to her was the person she had talked to before.

There were two possibilities at this point.

She had never actually spoken to the famous detective and it was this Ryuzaki all along, or he was blatantly lying in her face.

With a graceful motion he dropped the sheet he was reading and pressed a white button on his right.

"Watari, start the live feed from Amane's cell."

Immediately after this order a screen came to life and Monica felt her world crumble.

There on the monitor was the young figure of her sister, clad in a flimsy white rag that barely covered her mid tight, it looked almost like a straight jacket, right out of an asylum or a horror movie. She was strapped tightly to a high metal chair and her head was bent down, her normally luscious blond hair were greasy and hung limply around, covering her face.

Her sister, her little sister was there on display like a piece of meat.

Did they give her water? Food?

What about the bathroom?

God, this was even worse than what she had pictured in her mind.

She was almost naked!

But she understood, they wanted to degrade her.

Her fists turned white and trembled as she tried to contain the anger that was threatening to burst out.

A swish of air and the feeling of a hot breath on her left cheek, alerted her of someone invading her personal space.

She turned sharply in that direction and flinched back with a gasp at the sight of the supposed detective staring intently at her with huge, onyx eyes.

They looked almost bottomless and devoid of any emotion. He was trying to pick apart her reactions and probably unsettle her.

Despite her stuttering heart and her skin crawling at the closeness, Monica regained her previous position so that they were now nose to nose.

His breath smelled sweet, like chocolate and… Oranges? It reminded her of a Sacher torte.

"Those, Mr L, are what I would consider inhuman conditions." She gritted out through her clenched jaw, as she glared directly into his eyes. He had visible bags under them, an insomniac most probably.

"As I previously told you Miss Rizzo, I am not L, only an associate."

His face didn't move an inch, it stayed blank as before.

Was he lying?

"Do not insult my intelligence. You are the one who presented himself as L the first time we spoke."

His continuous, unflinching stare was really creeping her out, was he even human?

They stayed like that, just looking at each other for what seemed like an eternity, all the noise around them quieted, until he backed away, resuming his odd crouch and bringing up his right thumb to his mouth. He looked like a child now.

"Why would Miss Rizzo say that?"

Was he mocking her?

"It is not important Mr L. We had a deal. Now I want you to.."

"I will not meet any demands Miss Rizzo might make until she answers my previous question."

She gaped at him, bewildered.

What the fuck?

Her sister was there, hanging limply like a rag doll and he wanted to know how she had figured him out?

"I have to remind you Mr L that I have not contacted my Grandmother yet. She might start to worry." She spat out harshly, crossing her arms under her breasts.

His lips twitched. As if he was amused.

"And I have to confess to Miss Rizzo that I do not take well to threats."

His cold monotone almost made her shudder while on the outside she narrowed her eyes.

What an asshole.

They had another long staring contest, the detective looking kind of bored as she furiously shot daggers at him.

"The way you speak Mr L. Even with that voice scrambler the pronunciation of some consonant and vocals was very distinctive, especially if delivered in three languages. The way you pronounced words in my mother tongue made me guess that you are at least more used to speak the English language, if not a native. I would need further examination to make a certain claim.

Even the structure of you sentences was a dead giveaway."

She explained dully, not looking at him but at her sister. If she had, she could have detected a spark in his ink back eyes.

"Miss Rizzo is very perceptive."

Really, was he mocking her?

"Now that Miss Rizzo has satisfied your curiosity, she wants to state her demands."

Monica growled out, pissed off and eager to end this awful meeting.

"Please Miss Rizzo, make your demands."

Monica stared at her sister, willing herself not to cry at her pitiful state. As she was opening her mouth he spoke again.

"But first, let me show you the evidence we have against her."

She widened her eyes, dread filling her.

She was so fucking tired now, only her tension was keeping her awake and semi-sharp.

How could she mask her expressions?

She couldn't make it.

This man, he was the most famous detective of the freaking world.

How could she compete?

"Mr L, I can't bear to watch my sister like this a minute longer…" She stated before being, once again, interrupted.

"But Miss Rizzo should be completely informed before making contact with her lawyers."

He stated while sliding a document in her direction with his index.

In that moment she had the overwhelming urge to take that piece of paper and force it down his throat but she managed to victoriously smother it down and only took a long, shaking breath.

She examined the forensic report with a blank mask. They even had train tickets of the days Misa had gone to various locations to send letters to the police.

God, why?! She should have just burned them!

Still they were circumstantial evidences, not absolutely condemning. A good lawyer, and with how high their damn parcel was she really hoped the ones she had chosen were the best of the best, could try and succeed to disprove her sister's culpability.

But this situation was extremely unorthodox, she didn't think that it was routine in Japan to kidnap suspects and confine them until they confessed. Well, even this whole Kira business was actually absurd.

She slid the report back to him.

"She needs clothes and to wash…"

"Miss Rizzo is a fast reader. Would she like to see the crimes her sister is suspected of?"

This man was really risking a punch or two in his weirdly attractive face in this moment.

She didn't want to see Misa's victims and to think about the widows or the children she had made orphans.

Her sister was now innocent, she didn't remember anything, it was as if all that notebook bullshit never happened and she needed Monica more than ever.

"Clothes and handcuffs, not that strange contraption.." She kept pressing on, ignoring him.

"She killed our friend! He was a good man, had a wife and a child on the way!"

Monica turned towards Aihara, who was being held back by an the stocky man that had escorted her, and was almost foaming from his mouth.

Guilt churned in her belly and her chin started to tremble.

"Aihara."

The warning delivered with a deep monotone came from behind her and she was glad that the detective couldn't see her face in that moment.

Monica gulped and turned her tear filled eyes towards the enraged man.

"Aihara-san, I'm deeply sorry for your loss, and for the wife and child who will never meet his father. I know what it means growing up without a parent, well, actually, both parents."

He clenched his jaw but his body lost some of its previous tension.

"Can you put yourself into my shoes for a moment? I know that you think my sister is guilty, but I do not. She would never do something like that. Seeing her like this is hard, you can't even imagine how hard this is."

The lie about her sister's innocence went bitter down her throat but she continued nevertheless.

"What would you do if it were your sister crumpled in that chair? Or your girlfriend, your wife?"

She allowed a tear to fall down her eye as she gazed at him earnestly.

The officer deflated and turned away from her while the other one kept a meaty hand on his shoulder.

"Very well Miss Rizzo. You can leave the clothes for your sister to one of these officers."

She dried her cheek with her sleeve before turning to L.

"She needs to wash too, also handcuffs." She pressed on, returning his gaze.

His eyes were emotionless, no traces of anger at Aihara's behavior or any other emotion regarding her speech.

"We will accommodate your demands in the days ahead, Miss Rizzo. Now, would you like to speak to your sister?"

She nodded.

"Well then Miss Rizzo, press that button on your right and speak."

She complied timidly, not knowing what to say all at sudden.

"Misa."

The blonde stirred and slowly raised her head.

"Moni? Moni-chan?" She rasped and Monica's stomach churned in anguish.

"Yes honey, it's me."

Misa had a metal.. Band over her eyes.

God.

"Moni-chan? They got you too? Oh no! They are perverts, stalkers! Moni-chan you have to escape!"

The model shouted distressed before she started crying.

Christ, Rem had been right. She didn't even understand she had been arrested.

"Shhhh, hon, Shhhh." She said, trying to calm the other girl who was hysterically shouting her name.

"Misa! I'm ok! Calm down this instant!" She cried back forcefully, when Misa was in such a state she had to transform into a stern parent.

The younger girl hiccuped a few times before calming herself.

"Misa, the people who are keeping you are not perverts or stalkers, the are with the police." Monica explained slowly.

"T-The p-police?! But Misa didn't do anything wrong! Misa swears! Please believe her, Moni-chan!"

"I know sweetheart, I know. But they are not convinced of you innocence, so I need you to be patient and try to answer all their questions honestly."

The brunette was aware of the detective's gaze on her, gauging her expressions and her words.

Well, her sister didn't remember anything so she could actually answer truthfully.

"Misa doesn't know Kira! She told them! Please Moni-chan get Misa out of here. She is cold and hungry and misses her sister."

The model whined pitifully and Monica felt her heart constrict.

"I know, I know love. I-I'm working it, I will get you out of here. But first I brought you clothes so you won't be cold anymore ok? And you'll have a shower or a bath."

"Moni-chan please, Misa needs you. Please, please, please… Get me out of here. I-I can't take it anymore…"

She started to let out heart wrenching sobs.

The brunette closed her eyes, breathing deeply and willing herself not to cry.

"Misa, love, I know that you are tired and sore but I need you to be strong now and show this people that you are innocent. I have faith in you, I know you can do it. And I am here and I will fight for you as well. You will be treated better, love."

Monica wanted to cry and scream and maybe tackle the damn asshole perched beside her and just kick him, repeatedly.

But in reality, he was right. Misa had done all those things.

Misa was all she had left though.

"Misa, please. Be strong for me, I will do the same for you."

The blond model nodded vigorously.

A pale finger came dangerously near the brunette's hand, only to press the button next to the one she was currently touching, ending the voice connection to the cell.

"Miss Rizzo should retire now. She looks fatigued."

She wanted to smash that damn finger out of the way.

"No, wait a minute.."

"I insist, Miss Rizzo."

Not wanting to explode and be arrested for assault, Monica took a calming breath.

"Can I at least say good-bye?" She managed to ask sweetly.

"Of course, Miss Rizzo."

"I have to go now Misa." She started.

"Moni-chan no! Please don't leave Misa alone! You just got here!" Her sister pleaded, rocking herself back and fort.

"I know Misa, I'm sorry. I will speak to you soon. Remember your promise. Be strong."

Misa sniffed pathetically.

"You too Moni-chan. Can you speak to Light too and tell him I love him?"

Monica gaped.

She still remembered that little mass murderer? Her jaw clenched spontaneously.

"I don't know Misa. I don't even know who he is."

She answered calmly and felt the detective's gaze burning her.

"My boyfriend, Moni-chan. Misa thought… she thought she had told you about him."

Misa sounded dazed; so not owning the notebook took away the memories but created holes in them.

Brilliant.

"If you did it must have slipped my mind, love. I'll see what I can do. Bye Misa."

"Bye-bye Moni-chan. Misa loves you." The blonde added with a small voice.

"I love you too." She whispered back before raising her finger and ending the transmission.

Her shoulders slumped, she was emotionally drained.

"Miss Rizzo loves her sister very much."

God. This man again?

She just wanted to crawl into a bed ad sleep for a decade, she had no energy left to deal with him.

Monica raised from her seat, ignoring him completely.

"Does Miss Rizzo know her sister's boyfriend. She seemed upset after he was mentioned."

She kept ignoring him, walking briskly towards the exit and trying to open the door.

It was locked.

Of-fucking-course.

"Please, open the door." She was on the verge of snapping and she hoped she would not faint like a wimp as the room had started to spin dangerously.

"Miss Rizzo should answer the question before leaving the room."

Her head was pounding behind her burning eyes and she bit her lip so hard that she tasted blood.

Monica turned abruptly and swayed slightly to her left before regaining her posture.

"I do not know this particular boyfriend, Mr L, but I know my sister. We usually aren't on the same page on this topic as I do not like the kind of men she finds appealing. That's all. Nothing sinister."

She told him, trying and probably failing, to imitate his emotionless tone.

"Am I dismissed now?"

Those unblinking eyes were fixated on her, piercing and picking apart her very soul.

"Moji-san, please escort Miss Rizzo back to her suite. Good night Miss Rizzo."

Monica turned her back on him without saying a word.

Once inside her bedroom the brunette climbed tiredly under the covers, pulling the duvet over her head and bringing a pillow down in her makeshift cave.

She pressed her face over the cushion and screamed. She screamed so hard that her throat burned and felt raw.

Then the tears came and she cried herself to sleep.


	6. Chapter 6

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Death Note or its characters.

 **Author's note:** Thank you all for the attention you give to my story. I had to stop the chapter here or else it would have reached a humongous size.

Hope you like it.

Enjoy.

 **Past**

Five days had passed since Monica had her breakdown and she had seen Misa only twice counting the first time, obviously under the watchful, unsettling eyes of the unnerving detective.

He had tried to grill her further about Light and had shoved the photos of her sister's victims under her nose, aiming for some kind of reaction, but the brunette, with her mind now rested and somewhat at peace, was able to keep a cool facade, stressing over and over on her unfaltering belief in Misa's innocence.

Fortunately her requests had been met, now the blond prisoner was sporting a cute pink tracksuit, looked clean and her spirit had somewhat lifted considerably. The straight jacket was also gone.

When Monica had pressed for a personal visit inside sister's cell though, L or Riuzaki or whatever he wanted to be called, had firmly told her no, stating that he was still thinking about it.

After only two days of staying cooped up in her room, she was starting to go stir crazy.

The fault of her state probably resided in the cameras and various listening devices littered around her suite, monitoring her every move, and the continuous strain to keep her reactions and behavior in check.

Monica felt trapped.

That was why on the third day of her mandatory surveillance, the linguist had asked the detective to go back to work, even though she had not expected a positive response.

Ryuzaki had actually surprised her, agreeing on the condition of being escorted by at least one of his agents.

On the evening of the fifth day since she had returned to Japan, Monica was seated in the so called 'bunker', a particular part of the Ancient Studies Department's library, where invaluable texts and scrolls were safely stored.

The temperature and even the air were meticulously controlled to guarantee the optimum habitat for the treasures preserved and the employees allowed inside had to wear gloves and masks while perusing the books.

It was also a restricted area, so Aihara, who had accompanied her that particular day, was watching her from the cameras scattered in the room.

Monica was seated at a desk immersed in decoding an obscure passage in Sanskrit, scribbling notes in a notebook when she felt the hairs on the nape of her neck rise.

"Moni-chan."

Rem's familiar timbre greeted her from behind her shoulders.

She froze for an instant before nodding her head in acknowledgement.

Fortunately the cameras did not record audio and the mask she wore would prevent anyone from reading her lips. Also the bunker was soundproof.

"It is done. I have chosen the next owner and he will comply with my demands."

Killing people she meant.

The brunette closed her eyes thinking about how far she had deviated from her beliefs and moral compass since the beginning of this nightmare.

She had always been against the capital punishment for Christ's sake, and now she was condoning murders in order to save her sister.

How the mighty have fallen indeed.

"Demands?" She muttered, hoping for an explanation.

"Every day I will give him a list of criminals to execute to make him look like the real Kira. After that he can use it however he likes, with some discretion of course."

This didn't sound like a plan made by Rem.

What were Light's intentions?

She needed to think about it very carefully.

"Who?" She whispered.

"Kyosuke Higuchi, a disgusting human who is part of a company, Yostuba group. He will use the notebook to gain power and wealth." The Shinigami offered readily.

So now she was forthcoming.

Monica nodded her head while thinking about ways to investigate on the man and his company without her nannies discovering a thing.

This round even people who had never committed a crime were going to die.

God.

"How is Misa?" The reaper asked hesitantly.

"Better. Nicer clothes and no bindings." She answered coldly.

"Thank you Moni-chan. I apologize for not trusting you, I will not make the same error again. I will wait for you summon unless something important happens. Good-bye." The Shinigami replied formally, remorse in her voice.

Monica sighed.

She should just forgive Rem and be done with it, they both had the same goal in the end.

What price would she have to pay though?

She would become an accomplish of murder.

Christ, she should be in a cell next to her sister.

At least concentrating on translating and trying to fill the gaps of the ancient passage in front of her, took her mind off this self deprecating lane.

After some time Monica heard the alarm of the glass door blazing and glanced up from the scroll.

There was a commotion outside with at least two guards, two of her colleagues and her head of department trying to restrain and shouting soundlessly to an enraged Aihara who was gesturing madly towards the room.

She quickly got up, heart beating fast, and put her notes in her bag, heading hastily towards the exit.

Had something happened to Misa?

Once outside the pressurized antechamber, the officer grabbed her arm roughly and yanked forward making her almost fall.

"What is the meaning of this? We allowed your presence here because you told us Rizzo-sama was in grave danger and now you are treating her like this?!"

Hiro Yamamoto, her 'boss', shouted, red in the face from the strain while the others around him wore reproachful expressions.

Aihara ignored him completely, dragging the petite woman as she stumbled repeatedly.

Monica was so frightened she had lost the ability to talk.

What was happening?

Was Misa ok?

The policeman shoved her inside his car, violently slamming the door before climbing in the front seat.

"Put that blindfold on." He gritted out after starting the car.

The brunette glanced around and found a black cloth on her right but she didn't make a move to take it.

"W-why? What happened?" She stuttered out.

The man turned around and glared at her ferociously.

"As if you don't know! Put on the blindfold or I will put it on for you and I can assure you that you won't like it one bit."

She widened her eyes and gaped at him, torn between being shocked, scared or enraged.

She chose the latter.

"Fuck you! I'm out of here."

She spat back, trying unsuccessfully to open the door.

She saw Aihara exit the car and make his way to the rear door on his side and she scrambled to climb in the front to escape him only to be grabbed by her long braid and yanked backwards.

Despite her struggles, she was pushed face down on the seats then handcuffed and blindfolded.

Monica heard the slam of the door and the officer seating once again.

"Told you you wouldn't like it. Spoiled brats…"

The car started and sped away to an unknown location.

The girl felt like crying, for the fear, the pain and the humiliation, but she didn't want anybody to see her so weak and helpless. She was not helpless. Not anymore.

She managed to sit up without hurting herself too much, only slamming her head on the window twice, and started to kick the back of the seat where hopefully that asshole was located.

"Stop it!" He growled outraged.

Maybe it wasn't such a good idea pissing him off so much, but she was beyond caring now, her own anger clouding her mind.

"You deranged bastard! What the fuck are you doing! Do you know who my family is? How fucking dare you?"

She shouted back making her point by kicking the seat with all her might.

"Shut up! Your threats might work on Ryuzaki but not with me! You don't know in how much deep shit you are!"

What the hell was he talking about?

She had been extremely prudent, she was certain they didn't have anything on her at this point.

Still the doubt and the fear of exposure settled heavy in her chest.

"What the fuck are you talking about?! Are you nuts? What kind of psychotic assholes does the NPA hire? Let me go immediately!" She screamed while kicking him repeatedly.

"Disgusting! A woman speaking in such language."

Oh, he was disgusted, wasn't he?

Monica took a perverse pleasure in showing him just how disgusting her language could get in the length of their journey; that, coupled with the incessant ringing of the asshole's phone, had the inconvenient result of angering the officer further more, so that when he went to grab her he was positively seething.

"Shut up now!" He growled, tightening his grip on her arm painfully, she would get bruises, but she didn't give him the satisfaction of reacting to his abuse.

"Like hell I will! This is preposterous! You can't treat people like this!"

Her anger mixed with fear and dismay were making her lose her grip with reality.

Her heart was beating madly and she was struggling to breathe.

Aihara was dragging her purposefully, seemingly uncaring about her incoming panic attack.

He opened a metal door and yanked her up, forcefully placing her on his shoulder, like a sack of potatoes, succeeding in knocking the wind out of her.

Monica was seriously panicking now and tried to kick wherever she could reach but he immediately restrained her legs, only grunting once.

"Help! Please!" She screeched out, hoping someone would hear her.

They entered in what she thought might be an elevator while she kept rocking her bust back and forth, felling like a worm with her arms tied behind her back, hoping to unbalance him, but he was apparently built like a damned ton of bricks and her pitiful attempts didn't even manage to sway him.

"Let me go!"

Her throat felt raw with the strength of her scream.

A beeping noise could be heard and the officer carried her inside a room.

"Is that Rizzo-san?"

"Aihara! What did you do?!"

She heard a commotion around her before being launched in the air, landing on something quite soft. She immediately rolled to the side to escape any eventual further abuse but fell face first on what presumably was the floor.

Pain radiated from her mouth, the metal taste of blood making her nauseous.

Gasps and hurried footsteps reached her ears, hands taking her gently by the shoulders and placing her on a couch.

"Take off the cuffs and the blindfold. Now. Watari fetch the first aid kit." The detective's emotionless voice ordered the room.

"She is the new Kira! She's killing people to exonerate her sister, can't you see?!"

Aihara shouted angrily while the blindfold was taken off.

Monica blinked few times to acclimate her eyes to the room's light. Rivulets of blood were running down her chin and shirt, with her tongue she found the source, her upper lip was sliced on the right side.

Fuck, they bled like motherfuckers.

She knew from experience, having been backhanded by jeweled hands on multiple occasions.

"Aihara-san, Miss Rizzo is under constant surveillance, you were the one on watch today. Has she seen the news at all?"

Ryuzaki asked in a bored tone while an older man took a seat next Monica and started cleaning the blood around her mouth and nose with outmost care.

"Well, no, but she must have done something!"

Monica glanced at the detective, perched in his usual strange way on a chair. He was staring at the officer with passive eyes.

"Umm… Are you implying that you lost sight of Miss Rizzo at some point during the day, Aihara-san?"

"Of course not!"

"Then how could Miss Rizzo be responsible for today's deaths if she was at work the whole day and has not watched television at all?"

He scratched the nest on his head lazily.

Aihara sputtered and started gesturing wildly in her direction before giving Mastui the handcuff's key, slumping his shoulders in defeat.

In the meantime Monica's brain felt fuzzy, the voices came muffled to her ears, she didn't even register the gentle swipes of the cloth cleaning her face or the kind hands easing off the handcuffs.

"She must have done something! Let's search her notes!" Aihara rummaged into her work bag and took out the crumpled sheets, handing them to Ryuzaki, almost desperate to be right.

The detective took them, skimming through the lines at a lightening speed.

"It is written in that peculiar code I found in Miss Rizzo's notebooks. Care to share Miss Rizzo?"

He asked, fixing his unblinking stare on her.

"No." Was the resolute response.

"Why not Miss Rizzo?"

"It's work-related, nothing you have to worry about." She rasped, not looking at him.

She felt dazed and wanted so badly to cry.

But she wouldn't.

Not in front of them.

"It would be beneficial for Miss Rizzo to share her code with us, otherwise we might start to think she has something to hide."

He pressed on with his usual deep monotone.

She set her gaze on him, her eyes, dull, almost dead.

"I developed this code ages ago when someone tried to steal my research. If you are in possession of my other notebooks you can see that some of them are battered and old. They go back long before the beginning of this Kira business. I won't give you the key for deciphering them, and, honestly, there isn't only one. Almost every line has a different code. But you are welcome to give them to other experts, they can try to help you decode it."

She explained dully as he kept staring at her unblinkingly. His eyebrows dropped slightly and she suddenly realized something.

She gave him a wide smile that did not reach her eyes, lips burning painfully and blood gushing once more from her wound, smattering her teeth.

What a sight she must make.

"You already did that, didn't you?"

He pressed his lips together for an instant but it was all the confirmation she needed.

"Well, it is quite the masterpiece, that code, so no, I won't help you decipher it." She stated finally.

"See! She has something to hide!" Aihara interjected angrily.

"Yeah, my life's work."

Her voice cracked at the end and she cursed herself for showing weakness.

"Very well. Watari, show Miss Rizzo her new suite please."

"Wait a minute. The killings started again? My sister is innocent then!"

He looked at her impassively.

"Need I to remind Miss Rizzo that her sister was accused of being the second Kira? Also what we are witnessing now could be the work of another accomplice."

How in the fuck could he be so perceptive without even knowing how Kira killed?

She rolled her eyes at him.

"Or it could have been only one Kira from the beginning. Maybe he or she was playing with you the whole time? This pause could mean they were in hospital or somehow indisposed… "

"We will explore every lead. Now Miss Rizzo should take some rest, Watari, if you please."

He turned his stony gaze to the angry officer who had escorted her in the room.

"Aihara-san, a word."

Monica snapped her head up and glared at the detective, anger sparking once more and shaking her off.

"L, Ryuzaki, or whatever the hell your name is today, I most certainly don't need you to fight my damned battles." She growled at the impassive detective's face.

Was there an amused glint in his normally dull eyes?

"Aihara, I won't report your misconduct to anybody. You see, we Rizzo are well known for our vindictive personalities and do not take well to disrespect. I, however, am different, almost like the white sheep of the family, if you get what I'm saying. I will not denounce what happened not for you, but for your family."

She spoke with a deceitful calm tone looking at him with hard eyes.

"I imagine you have a wife, child? Parents? It would deeply sadden them to hear of your dishonorable behavior towards a defenseless woman, I'm sure. So this time I won't say anything. But if you ever lay another finger on me, I will personally destroy you."

The man gulped and averted his eyes while the others stared quietly at her.

Maybe they weren't used to women speaking so forcefully or threatening men so openly, but she needed to make her point clear.

"Watari-sama, if you could please show me my room, I'm in much need of some rest."

"Of course Miss Rizzo." He answered immediately, standing up and offering her his arm.

Finally a gentleman.

Monica exited the room with her head held high, not saying a word.

She was waiting to be in the shower, away from prying eyes and ears, before shattering.

"Miss Rizzo could visit her sister in person tomorrow, if she wants."

Monica stilled and even the gentleman at her side tensed slightly. So this was not Riuzaki's normal behavior.

She half turned narrowing her eyes to try to gauge his sincerity.

He was there, still seated in his odd way, thumb pressed on his white lips, black eyes wide and almost innocent.

She had to admit that he was cute.

What the fuck? Where did that come from?

Never mind.

"I'll hold you onto that, detective."

His lower lip twitched in amusement.

/

The next day found Monica almost back to normal, her lip hurt like hell but she was happy she would get to see Misa.

The previous night after retching few times in the toilet at the thought of the day's 'executions', as Rem had called them, and sobbing wildly in the shower, commiserating her life until that moment, Monica had made her way into the kitchen to hunt down something to eat only to find a strange container on her counter with a white note stuck on it.

She had reached the thing warily as if it could have bitten her, the note had had only a big black gothic L on it and she had rolled her puffy red eyes at his dramatics.

She had opened the cover slowly and saw ice cream, Pistachio flavor, staring back innocently at her.

"It better not be laced with poison or some kind of truth serum, Ryuzaki, or I will hunt you down and beat you up. I have a mean right hook for your information."

She had told the ceiling while taking the sweet offer and laying down on her soft new bed, mindlessly watching television until her eyes had closed.

Now, dressed in comfortable clothes she was awaiting the detective's summon, having already warned her boss of her absence.

After getting all her trust fund she would need to give a huge donation to her department for all the shit she was pulling.

A gentle knock at the door interrupted her thoughts.

"Miss Rizzo, we are ready to go."

She raised from the armchair she was currently sat on and opened the door to find Watari, impeccably dressed in a dark gray suit accompanied by a peculiar hat, a bowler hat if she wasn't mistaken, respectfully held in his hands.

Suddenly she felt underdressed in her ripped jeans, black t-shirt and hoodie.

"Good-morning Watari-sama, I'm ready to go."

Monica beamed at the older man, taking his proffered arm.

"There are conditions to your visit Miss."

She halted her steps to look at the man hesitantly.

"What kind of conditions?"

They resumed their walk towards the parking lot as he answered.

"Firstly you have to unfortunately wear a blindfold, the location you sister is at the moment must remain undisclosed."

Being immersed in blindness and jostled around the car wasn't really her kind of thing, but she would make it do to see Misa.

He waited for her nod of assent before continuing.

"Secondly you can't reveal her anything regarding the case."

"So I can't tell her that the killings have started again? But.."

"These are Ryuzaki's conditions, if you cannot accept them, I'm afraid you will have to return to your suite Miss."

Clenching her jaw and cursing that damned detective in her mind, she nodded again.

"Ryuzaki will not be pleased if you break one of these rules, especially the latter, Miss Rizzo."

Although his voice stayed calm and collected during his speech, Monica could detect the hint of a threat in there.

"Of course Watari-sama. I would never dream of displeasing Ryuzaki." She omitted any kind of honorific and gave him her best innocent stare.

The man masked a chuckle with a cough and held the car door open for her as she smirked at him.

/

After her uncomfortable road trip and being guided into what she supposed was a building like a blind person, Monica was finally standing in front of a metal door, free of the cotton cloth that had covered her eyes.

With a sigh she opened it to see her sister seated on a cot, blindfolded and with her arms bound slackly behind her back.

"Hello Misa." She breathed out, heart soaring at the sight of her.

Misa turned her head towards the voice.

"Moni? Is that you?" She asked with a small voice.

The brunette closed the distance and raised a hand to pet her hair.

"Yes sweetheart, it's me."

Her sister looked wary and distrustful, something Monica would have never associated with her, but still understandable in the circumstances she found herself in.

Misa scooted closer and put her face in the spot between her shoulder and neck, inhaling deeply, then moved down to place her head on her breasts as Monica blushed a deep red.

"W-wha.."

"Strawberries and lemon, big chest, it's my Moni-chan!"

The blonde exclaimed, throwing herself in her arms and Monica squeezed her tightly.

"Misa, I'll have you to know that we are being watched, if you mean to put on a show like you just did, we should at least get paid."

She deadpanned.

"Ahahahahaha, Moni, Misa missed you so much."

Her heart was bursting in her chest and her eyes burned with unshed tears after hearing her sister's laugh. They stayed like that, in silence, just enjoying each other's warmth and company for a while before Misa raised her head, accidentally grazing her bruised lip, making Monica hiss in pain.

"What is it? What happened to my Moni-chan?" Her sister asked, trying to point out her injury by brushing her right cheek on her face as the brunette squirmed awkwardly away.

"Just my normal clumsy self, sweetie. I fell."

Misa made an almost inhuman sound that resembled a growl.

"Do not lie to Misa, Monica!"

She was in deep shit when her sister used her full name, especially if she was baring her white teeth like that.

"I swear!"

"Was it that monster? Your grandmother?!"

Hell no! Monica didn't want for the whole team and especially that black haired detective to know all of her dirty secrets, so she cleared her throat assuming a stern voice, intending to put an end to this argument before it had a chance to start.

"Misa!"

"No!" The brat actually stomped her left foot on the mattress to make her point.

"Last time my Moni returned to Misa from her trip to Italy she had a bruised cheek! Moni told Misa she had fell too that time, but Misa could see the handprint! There was even a scratch!"

Monica slumped her shoulders in defeat, now everybody would know about that abusive hag. There was no point in denying.

She shrugged.

"She likes to wear big rings."

Misa made a distressed noise.

"Moni should hit her back!"

She scoffed, crossing her arms over her chest.

"What? Do you want me to start a brawl with a woman thrice my age? Don't be ridiculous Misa."

The blond model stayed silent for a moment at her sister's cold voice.

"Misa hopes Kira-sama kills Moni's awful Grandmother. She would be free then."

That was a sort of deja vu.

"Let's not bring him or her into this thing ok? Actually it was your strange admiration for Kira that landed you in this mess. You shouldn't be so fucking in awe of him."

She suddenly felt angry at Misa's veneration for that asshole.

"Misa is very grateful to Kira-sama! He killed Misa's parents' murderer. Moni-chan should thank him too! He will kill all the bad people!"

Great, now Misa was angry too.

"Oh yes, and then what Misa? Will he kill himself too?"

Her sister looked taken aback.

"Why would he.."

"Because killing people is bad Misa! He's a killer and, by your reasoning, should die too. Nobody should have the power to decide who lives and who dies! Even if they are criminals, you can't just snuff a life. It is fundamentally wrong!"

Monica shouted, enraged at her sister's naive view of the world.

"Kira-sama is going to create a better world for good people, Moni-chan will soon see."

The absolute confidence in Misa's voice chilled her to the bone.

"We'll have to agree to disagree then."

The blonde huffed in annoyance.

"Misa, can't we just.. We don't have much time on our hands, I-I.. I really don't want to fight with you, or bring mass murderers and abusive crones in our conversation. Can't we just speak like two normal sisters?" Monica pleaded, looking at the ceiling as her back was pressed against the headboard.

"Moni-chan is right. Misa is sorry"

The brunette looked at her little sister, so small and vulnerable in that state and brought her into her arms, kissing her forehead.

"Do you get enough food? Water?"

"Yes Moni-chan, Misa has been treated better since Moni spoke to her."

She let out a sigh of relief.

"Good."

"Misa misses her sister and her boyfriend."

The blonde added in a small voice.

"I know sweetie, just… Be strong for a little more, ok? Once they'll see that you are not involved in all this mess they'll let you go."

She bargained while caressing her sister's long hair.

"Ok Moni-chan. Then we'll buy a big house and go live with Light-kun! The three of us, together!"

What?

"Hell no Misa! I don't even know this guy!"

Misa exited the embrace with some difficulty due to her bound arms, giving her a wide, brilliant smile.

"Oh he's so handsome Moni-chan! Light-kun is the best student of all Japan. He's tall, lean and kind and so dreamy! Oh and he has the most beautiful hair! And his eyes! Light-kun looks and walks like a super model! Misa loves him!" She concluded with a lovesick sigh.

And is also a killer but, hey, everyone needed a hobby.

Monica snorted.

"Sounds perfect… Almost too perfect. Are you sure he doesn't have any flaws…"

"Light-kun is the most perfect person in the whole world, and Misa loves him very much."

Misa rebutted stubbornly.

"What do you know of him? Maybe he farts in his sleep."

Misa gasped, her small mouth forming a perfect O.

"Moni!" She whined.

"Oh, yeah, sorry, he's so perfect his farts would smell like lilies and roses. You could use him as an air freshener."

The blond prisoner started to laugh, a full belly laugh, shoulders shaking and tears leaking from under her blindfold.

Monica smiled, happy for managing to give her sister a chance to be carefree.

"Why are you laughing Misa? You describe him as the pinnacle of human perfection, hot, smart, kind. Everybody would assume something like that! Hey maybe you could put him in an apron a make him cook for us. Only God knows how hopeless we are in the kitchen!"

Misa calmed herself, only a few snorts coming from her mouth now.

"Misa is going to learn how to cook for her Light-kun."

Monica let out an exaggerated gasp.

"What?! You would learn how to cook for a man and not for your own sister? I'm wounded, I'm deeply wounded Misa. I'm on the verge of tears."

Misa rubbed her head on Monica's shoulder in a comforting gesture while grinning.

"But it's for Light-kun!" She said between giggles.

The brunette raised her hands in the air in a yielding manner.

"Well, if it's for him then…"

The sound of knocking interrupted their playful banter.

"Miss Rizzo, I'm afraid your visiting time must come to an end."

Watari's voice could be heard from behind the door.

"She just got here! No, please!" Misa screamed in anguish, as tears, this time of sadness, marred her cheeks. She threw her little body over Monica's lap in a desperate attempt to keep her in the room.

The brunette felt her heart drop at the obvious desperation in her sister's voice.

"Can't I just stay a little longer?"

Misa was by now draped all over her with her head on her shoulder and her thin legs wrapped tightly around her waist like a vice.

"I'm afraid not Miss Rizzo." The older man said entering the room.

"No! You're all bad, bad people! Misa needs her Moni-chan! You can't take her away from her!"

Misa roared through her sobs, her abandonment issues rearing their ugly head.

Not wanting the situation to escalade Monica made an attempt at calming the younger girl.

"Honey, please I'll try to come back as soon as I can, ok?" She spoke in a calm tone bringing her hands up to cup her face, drying the girl's copious tears with her thumbs.

"No! The'll never let you come back to Misa! Misa won't let them take her Moni away from her."

With that she bit the collar of Monica's shirt, as if daring anybody to pry her away from her sister.

This thing was escalating at a lightening speed.

"Amane Misa release Miss Rizzo immediately."

The computerized voice of the detective ordered from the ceiling and Monica looked up, her big green eyes pleading, a sense of hopelessness washed over her.

"J-Just let me calm her down a little… "

"No Miss Rizzo. Disentangle yourself from your sister right now."

Misa tightened her grip on her and Monica felt like dying inside when she saw Watari move to separate them.

"Please Watari-sama, just a moment…" She pleaded.

"Miss Rizzo, do I need to remind you who is in charge here?" Ryuzaki threatened further.

As Watari's hands descended upon the blond model's legs, to pry them from her waist, Misa went into hysterics, launching herself at the man, trying to bite him while crying out like a banshee.

It was agonizing to watch.

She would give it to the old man, he managed to restrain her without actually causing any harm or being bitten for his efforts.

"Monicaaaa, nooo! You promised to never leave me! I need you, please!"

It was a bad sign of Misa's nerves and mind state when she left behind her third person speech.

The brunette had half in mind to overpower the detective's lackey and just run away with her sister but knowing that black haired weirdo he would find them and made them pay dearly for the offense.

Misa's breaths started to become shallow and dangerously fast.

"Miss Rizzo exit the room, now."

Ryuzaki ordered from the ceiling.

Like hell she will.

"I-I .. c-can't.. b-b-breatheee…" Misa managed to say between her choking breaths.

Monica snapped into action, shoving Watari out of the way and cradling her sister into her arms, turning her so that her back would be pressed on the brunette's front.

"Misa I'm here love, you need to breathe now. It's simple try to mach me, like this."

She inhaled deeply through her nose and exhaled loudly through her mouth few times, letting Misa feel her ribcage expanding and returning to normal,

meanwhile checking her thundering pulse.

"I-I c-can't… M-Moni…"

"Try it, love. Come on, just like me." She kept breathing loudly and calmly, demonstrating the process.

"She has history of panic attacks, as her medical records state." She stated coldly, brushing her sister's fringe from her sweaty forehead. The stuttering heartbeat was fortunately slowing down.

There was no response to her words, the room stayed silent, Watari on the side surveying the scene, only the sounds of the girls' deep breaths could be heard.

In that moment Monica realized something.

Visiting Misa had not been some kind of reward to her for enduring the previous day's mistreatment at the hand of Aihara.

No.

This was all a ploy to unsettle her sister by rubbing something she craved in her face only to rip it away almost immediately.

He was devious in his intelligence.

She would have done the same if the roles were reversed.

Or maybe not. She could never be that ruthless.

Still she had to marvel at his wits and cunningness.

The detective wanted Misa in that state, thinking it would be easier to gain what he wanted.

What he didn't know was that at the moment her sister didn't remember anything.

What a fucking mess.

Well she would try to put a wrench in his plans.

"Misa" Monica whispered in her sister's ear.

"Now I have to go, but I will return. I will always return to you, no matter what happens. You have to promise something back to me though."

She felt her nod. Good, she was coherent enough to understand her.

"If it gets too much just imagine me here, holding you or just talking."

Monica raised her green gaze to the ceiling, a challenging glint in her eyes.

"Promise me you will be strong. Do. Not. Break. Understood?"

"I-I promise Moni-chan." Was the feeble confirmation.

This was all she could do for now.

"Enough Miss Rizzo. Please exit the room."

Even though his voice was scrambled, Monica could almost feel his clipped, annoyed tone.

The brunette gave Misa a light kiss on her temple, before disentangling herself and following Watari out of the room.

He held the black blindfold for her to take and she complied wordlessly.

During their silent car trip, Watari suddenly cleared his throat.

"You shouldn't antagonize him so much Miss Rizzo. Ryuzaki-san is a very powerful man."

That condescending statement spiked up her anger that was just waiting to flare out.

"Well, he shouldn't piss me off so much then. I am too a powerful woman." She replied stubbornly and the older man sighed.

After a moment of silence she spoke again.

"I'm sorry for shoving you out of my way Watari-sama."

She hoped to sound convincing enough, she wasn't sorry at all actually.

The man chuckled.

"It's all forgiven Miss Rizzo."

They stayed in a companionable silence for the rest of their journey.

Unbeknown to Monica the promise she had made to Misa, just before getting out of her cell, would be the first one she wouldn't be able to keep.

DNDNDNDNDNDNDNDNDNDNDNDNDNDNDND


	7. Chapter 7

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Death Note or its characters.

 **Author's note:** I'm really, really sorry for the wait. I hope you people still want to read my story.

I will try to speed my updates. Thank you all.

 **Past**

"What do you mean you're giving up my case?"

Monica screeched on the phone while walking briskly through the department's maze of alleys, an out of breath Moji trailing faithfully behind her.

After the scene with Aihara Monica had always been escorted by either Moji or Matsui, preferring the latter due to his easygoing nature and his laxer surveillance.

"Miss Rizzo we are deeply sorry but we can't take your case at the moment. The firm is incurring in some… Problems."

The secretary of Kobayashi and Ito law firm explained somewhat reluctantly.

The brunette bristled as she entered her office gesturing brusquely for Moji to take a seat.

"What kind of problems? With all the money I already gave you you should have no problems at all! You readily took it and as of yet you haven't done a thing despite the documents I sent you."

"We are sorry ma'am, we will proceed with reimbursing all your advance payment as soon as possible."

Monica clenched the fist that wasn't grasping the phone, counting mentally to ten to regain some kind of composure.

"May I speak to either Ito-sama or Kobayashi-sama?"

She heard a sharp intake of breath.

"I-I'm afraid it won't be possible Miss.. The lawyers are, unfortunately, under investigation.."

She kept talking but the brunette didn't hear a thing, she was struck.

What the actual.. This was suspicious.

"W-What? When did that happen?" She asked with a mounting sense of dread.

"A week ago…"

Just after the scene with Misa. So this was the detective's petty revenge. Of course lawyers as famous as those she had chosen for her sister's defense would have had some skeletons in their closets. He was trying to hinder her attempts.

Monica, despite the inconvenience this roadblock presented, felt like laughing.

Never had anyone she had faced before matched her bite for bite, given as good as she got.

It was actually stimulating and thrilling.

Still she had a problem to solve, and solve it she would.

"I understand Suzuki-san. I will be awaiting your refund. Have a nice day."

She interrupted the secretary's ramblings and hung up, sighing loudly.

"You wouldn't happen to know anything about my lawyers being under investigation, wouldn't you Moji-san?" She asked raising a brow.

The stoic officer answered calmly, keeping his poker face.

"I'm afraid not, Rizzo-san."

She chuckled while opening her laptop and getting ready to do some work and think about her future countermoves.

"As I suspected.."

She needed to get in contact with Frizzi, her father's associate, to do some background checks on other law firms, she wanted someone squeaky clean so that it would be impossible for the smart detective to find anything, not even an unpaid ticket.

Her phone was obviously under surveillance though.

How could she contact someone and not be discovered when under such strict watch?

This was indeed a problem.

A huge fucking one.

The other pressing matter she had to attend was the real Kira.

What were Light's intentions?

Rem had hinted that the boy had a plan all along, to save her sister and himself, his ultimate goal to get rid of L.

Had he shared it with the female reaper?

She needed to get in touch with Rem too it seemed, she didn't like to be out of the loop, and being outsmarted by a fucking seventeen year old, genius as he may be, just stung, badly.

Also, even if she found Ryuzaki unnerving and, quite frankly, an asshole, she didn't want him dead.

If it came down to chose either Misa or Ryuzaki, the choice would be obvious.

Still if she could just avoid that…

/

 **Present**

Once Monica had reached her little apartment, she scrambled inside, racing through the living room to get to the bedroom's closet and fetch her travel bag that held emergency clothes and some rolls of cash, then she quickly moved her bed to the side, crouching on the floor and started tearing out the floorboards with a dull paperknife that she kept under the mattress.

A little alcove was just underneath them, holding fake IDs, extra rolls of cash, burner phones and a taser gun.

She put everything inside her bag, apart from the gun, which she kept her right hand, ready for use.

The girl looked around the room, mourning the loss of the light summer dresses hung in the closet, the flip flops and the stash of photographs she had taken of the beautiful, wild scenery that the small seaside city had provided.

With a sigh she moved to the living room grabbing her laptop and putting it away in her bag, then she went through the phone book, ripping out the pages for taxi services and rental cars.

A strange, chemical scent crept inside the room.

Monica's brain had barely the time to register the smell and take a huge gulp of air before a cloth was pushed on her mouth and nose, and a forceful arm sneaked across her waist, barely caging both of her arms.

Chloroform.

A classic.

Widening her eyes and forcing herself to keep her mouth and nose from breathing, the woman started to struggle, knowing that she had little time before she could escape and trying with all her might not to panic.

Even though the arm around her middle wasn't very long, it was muscular and strong, tightening to contain her despite her wild movements.

It was a male judging by the low growls and groans that he emitted as she managed to hit him a few times, and he was also not very tall, his ragged breaths came from just few inches above her ear.

She could work with that.

By now her eyes had started to water, from the fumes of the chloroform and the strain to avoid breathing, her lungs painfully burning.

Monica quickly put her head down, her chin touching the tip of her sternum, then suddenly rammed her head back with all her might.

Blinding pain registered in the back of her head, almost making her gasp, but the cracking noise and the loud moan of pain that followed, made it worth.

She took advantage of this painful distraction to put her right foot against the wall and push forcefully backwards.

They crashed on the floor, the arms encaging her slack, so Monica used her now free hands to scramble away from her assailant to finally take deep, lungful breaths.

She turned around and quickly clasped her taser that had fallen during their struggle, pointing it at the…

Boy?

With those long blonde hair he could pass for a girl.

He was scowling at her from his position on the floor, blood running down his nostrils and coating his bared teeth.

"Fucking bitch! You broke my nose!"

He snarled at her trying to sit up.

Monica snapped out of her stupor, probably induced by seeing a… Sixteen? Fifteen? year old bleeding on her floor after he had almost successfully tried to assault her.

But why?

"Easy there, blondie, or I'll shoot you in the balls. See if you like it better than your broken nose."

She spat out menacingly.

The boy scoffed.

"Yeah sure lady…"

Monica shot the first of the two darts at the meaty part of his tight, already tired of this kid's attitude.

He fell back dow on the floor, his whole body convulsing, eyes shut in pain.

She waited patiently for the shacking to subside while nonchalantly recharging her gun; the kid needed to learn she was dead fucking serious.

"Y-you s-s-s-hoot m-me!"

He managed to stutter between spasms as she bent down and collected the chloroform cloth.

"Next time on your balls, Candy. Now, who the fuck are you?"

The brunette asked aiming her gun at his crotch.

A stalker?

Was she a magnet for psychopaths?

"F-f-fuck y-you!"

She sighed, already bone deep tired of the situation, her lack of sleep not helping matters.

"Listen kid, I really don't enjoy hurting people…"

"S-shut the f-fuck u-up! W-we know y-you're a c-criminal!" He snarled trying and failing to prop himself up on his elbows.

Dread filled her.

H-how..?

"What are you saying blondie? I'm not a criminal."

"S-sure.. Cut the c-crap Rizzo! W-we know e-everything." He growled baring his teeth.

Monica faltered.

Who was this kid?

He was speaking English flawlessly, he didn't look Japanese at all and he was just too young to have been involved in the Kira investigation.

He couldn't possibly be the son or the relative of someone in the task force. Apart from Yagami-san, nobody else was old enough to have a teenager kid.

This mental process left one thing out.

Cutting the charade, she narrowed her eyes at him.

"We? Who is we? L?"

The boy, who had finally managed to partially sit up, blanched, widening his eyes.

This was the problem with having children doing your dirty deeds, they couldn't hide their emotion to save their lives.

She chuckled mirthlessly.

"Is he sending children to do his job now?"

She was somewhat angry and resentful for a beat.

Did he not think she was dangerous enough to come himself? Was she so beneath him that he had sent a kid to apprehend her?

Fuck him.

Better for her, she had a chance to escape.

The boy was clenching his jaw and shooting daggers from his blue/gray eyes.

"Well kid, I'm really sorry for your nose and shooting you, but, in my defense, you kinda tried to assault me." She told him with a grimace, lowering her gun.

"Do you want a glass of water? Some juice?"

He looked at her as if she had grown a second head, still trembling slightly.

She shrugged.

"Water it is."

She went to the fridge, keeping him in her line of sight and took out a bottle of water. After opening it she offered it to him while he watched her with a guarded expression.

He eventually took the offering and drank a sip.

"W-what did you d-do to h-him?"

He asked, glaring at her.

Monica shot him a confused stare.

"You have to elaborate here, kid. Who are you referring to?"

She rebutted crouching down at his level.

Still glaring at her with a clenched jaw, he answered.

"L."

Monica widened her green eyes in confusion.

"I actually didn't do anything to him… Well, maybe I drugged him a little and left him in my room, but.." She rambled blushing a little.

"You might not believe me here, and.. You know, I would totally, understand you if you won't, that is.. I-I did it to save him…"

It felt a little cathartic confessing your sins to a stranger.

"Y-you're r-right. I d-don't believe y-you."

He told her tilting his chin up, in a show of defiance.

Her shoulders slumped down.

"Yeah, I'd figured.."

Silence filled the room for a bit before the brunette cleared her throat.

"Uhm.. Is.. Is he, L, uhm.. Is he ok?" She awkwardly asked while fumbling with the cloth imbibed with the drug, the smell still strong.

The blonde boy was looking at her strangely, tilting his head to the side. It reminded her of the detective. He was studying her.

God, she was acting like a lovesick teen-ager asking about her crush. And in front of a teen-ager nonetheless.

Pathetic.

"H-he's d-different." Was the ominous response.

She waited for him to elaborate but he kept silent.

"I-I don't know what to tell you kid… I didn't do any lasting damage.." She defended herself.

He snorted before taking another sip of water and Monica, taking advantage of the opening, struck like a snake in the grass, tackling the kid and pressing the cloth on his mouth, trying to avoid his tender nose, while chanting her remorse under her breath.

He shot her a look of betrayal and his arms flayed around, gripping and pulling her hair and trying unsuccessfully to push her off him, but he had already breathed in the drug, his movements and hits sluggish and without any strength. Still the pull on her braid made her eyes water.

As he went slack beneath her, she waited a minute before removing her hand then took his arms and dragged him towards the couch.

In two tries she hauled him up and turned him on his side, mindful of the possibility of vomit chocking his airways. She took the dart out his tight and covered his still form with a soft blanket.

Monica felt bad leaving him like this, but she needed to run and fast, she grabbed all of her things, walked briskly out of her apartment and climbed the car, with only a destination in mind, getting the fuck out of there.

She mashed her foot down the gas pedal, uncaring of the speed limits, her goal to get further away from her house and call for a cab, then wait until morning before renting another car under an alias. She needed some time to formulate her exit plan, and to concentrate on her situation.

Not on L.

No.

He was different though?

Not himself..

Why?

No!

She needed to crush this train of thoughts from the start.

But no matter how many times she tried to stop it, her mind always drifted towards the dark haired detective.

/

 **Past**

"I almost didn't accept the call Chicca, it would probably cost me a fortune though. Where are you now? In Japan?" Frizzi's deep voice came from a public telephone in Tokyo central station.

Monica bristled at the old nickname that still made her feel like a kid and not an adult.

"Take the money from my account Alessandro. And stop calling me Chicca. I'm on a tight schedule so I'll just go straight down to business."

Finally a week after Kobayashi & Ito had dropped her case and gone under investigation for embezzlement or something similar, Monica had the chance to slip her constant surveillance.

Her boss had been awaiting a renowned linguist from Nagoya and she had volunteered herself to accompany him to get him at the station.

Matsui had luckily been on shift that day.

At the station she had feigned abdominal cramps, blaming a tuna sandwich she had eaten at lunch and had run for the bathroom, the policeman following her but waiting respectfully outside the Ladies' room.

Those particular bathrooms had two exits, one that lead to another part of the train station.

Monica had put on the battered hoodie she always kept in her work bag for her excursions in the bunker, and had quickly gone through the other exit and headed to the public phones, her hood concealing her caucasian features.

"Oh Monica, you wound me, my dear. You have always called me uncle."

The brunette gripped the phone in anger while scanning her surroundings.

"I need you to find me other lawyers for my sister, squeaky clean this time."

He sighed at her brisk, down to business tone.

"Whatever you want, love."

She continued ignoring him.

"You must send me an untraceable phone and cash at the safe deposit box you made for me at Unicrid bank in Tokyo."

Frizzi gasped in shock.

"My my Chicca, you are finally starting to resemble a Rizzo! And here I though you only inherited your father's green eyes!"

She snorted.

"I fortunately didn't inherit his nose."

"He was actually a very handsome man my lovely Chicca, you might not remember him well. We had some fun together many years ago, before your mother and his last lover."

She shivered in revulsion at the thought.

"Really, too much information. Can you do it Alessandro?"

He let out a long breath.

"Anything for you, my beauty. But you must promise to come to visit me next time you come home. Bring your sister too if you want. We could have.. Fun, together."

God…

"We could literally be your daughters Alessandro. I hope you are not referring to… That.."

She trailed off as he let out a full belly laugh.

"Still so innocent Chicca. Give me two days and you'll have what you want."

"Good Alessandro. Thank you."

"You're welcome love."

She looked around before speaking again.

"I have to go."

"Ahh so soon?"

"Sorry, I must."

He sighed again.

"Alright Chicca, Good-bye."

"Thank you Ale.. I.. I appreciate it."

She gulped in silence before hanging up.

Monica had always had a crush on her father's associate that would come and sweep her away from her horrible grandmother and take her out for ice-cream or for a ride at carnivals, always smiling, showing his perfect white, straight teeth and his boyish dimples.

In high school she had discovered few things about her 'uncle's' activities that had shed a new light on the man she had put on a pedestal since she could talk.

A darker light.

Still, he had a soft spot for her and she was grateful for it.

/

"Matsui, I'm really sorry for making you wait for me." Monica bit her lip in sorrow while looking at the man.

"Don't worry Rizzo-san, how are you feeling now?"

He asked with a gentle smile.

She should feel horrible for her deceiving act but instead she didn't feel an ounce of guilt.

Great…

This whole thing was changing her, and not for the better.

In a few months she would become a real Rizzo, indeed.


	8. Chapter 8

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Death Note or its characters.

 **Author's note:** Sorry for the late update guys, I hope the next one will come down sooner.

I wanted to thank you all for your reviews, your feedback is always appreciated. Also the favorite and following.

Thank you, really.

I'm sorry for any mistakes, **Devidakk** thank you for pointing them out.

I read some previous chapters and, indeed I found many mistakes, some phrasings made me actually cringe.

English is not my first language, I don't speak it on a daily basis, like ever, but I will try and edit as much as I can when I'll get the chance. I wanted to get a little further in the story before revising anything.

So, said that, I wanted to tell you that I experimented a little with the style of this chapter, especially in the last part of it.

A little fragmented to express the line of thought of my character.

Don't hesitate to tell me what you think!

Enjoy!

 **Past**

Two weeks had passed since Monica had managed to reach Frizzi, making it four weeks, almost a month, since she had heard or seen her sister.

Not for lack of trying on her part.

Every single day she had asked to talk to L, Ryuzaki, or whatever, but he had completely ignored her, choosing to relay his messages to her through Moji or Matsui.

Not even Watari had visited her.

She felt almost like a prisoner, locked in her ever changing hotel rooms, they had changed establishments seven times in four weeks, escorted to work and brought back at the end of the day, choosing from the room service's menu and eating alone.

Worry for her sister and anger for the current situation were mounting inside her, at times she felt ready to snap and explode, but she had to thread carefully.

After speaking to the female reaper for two times in the shower, to the ever embarrassment of Rem, she had felt reassured that the 'new' Kira was behaving himself and killing criminals according to their plan.

She had tried to smoother down the guilt but at times her throat constricted and it became difficult to breathe, especially after watching the news, she now avoided them like plague.

What was really disconcerting was the fact that the detective had not freed either Light or Misa, despite the daily executions.

What was he waiting for?

He must be really certain of their guilt.

Did he have some other kind of evidence, apart from Misa's cassettes and tickets?

What did he have against Light?

Doubt and frustration were like a heavy weight on her chest and Monica always ended her days with a blinding headache and a burning stomach.

She really hoped this wouldn't lead to an ulcer or something similar.

That frustrating detective's silence and the absence of any news regarding her eventual new lawyers had sent the brunette into a state of uncertainty that she most certainly did not like.

Absolutely fucking not.

At the end of the week that signed a month from the last time she had seen her sister, (these were now her milestones), the young linguist was lounging on her bed, this one had a mattress a tad too hard for her liking, looking relaxed for the world to see, while internally sheer rage was swirling in her guts, limbs trembling with the barely repressed compulsion to just scream out her frustrations and destroy the whole room in a fit of petty revenge towards the man who was now controlling every aspect of her life.

It wasn't exactly his fault she had landed herself in this mess, but logic wasn't usually her friend in this state.

Her mobile phone ringing a cheerful tune snapped her out of those thunderous thoughts.

"Rizzo speaking." She answered without checking the number's ID.

"Rizzo-sama, my name is Sato Matsuko of Futaba and Matsuko law firm."

A professional female voice came from the receiver and Monica sat up from her bed so fast that her head spun for a second.

"We received a call and some documents from the Rome headquarter of R&F Inc. regarding a case that involves Amane Misa. I believe Amane-san is your sister?"

Monica, who had been clutching the fabric of her t-shirt across her chest, heart pounding madly, regained her wits.

"Yes.." she croaked before clearing her throat.

"Yes, Misa is my little sister."

"Excellent Rizzo-sama."

Matsuko paused a bit.

"I will be honest with you, your sister's situation is a difficult one, not only because of the media coverage of the Kira case but also because we encountered a substantial amount of… Let's say… Obstacles while researching for the case."

Monica tensed all over, clenching her jaw.

That damned man.

The moment he had realized someone was sniffing around his affairs he had leashed out.

Hopefully Frizzi had done his checks on the new law firm and all would be well.

At least Sato Matsuko was still out of jail.

That sure should mean something.

"It looks as if the whole thing is secreted, classified. No charges against your sister were officially deposited at the NPA, were you aware of that fact Rizzo-sama?" The woman continued with her brisk, down to business, tone.

The brunette immediately liked her.

"Please Matsuko-san, call me Monica. No I wasn't exactly aware of that. I had some problems and… The previous law firm that I had employed went under investigation while they were studying the case and.. I really don't know what to do ma'am. Can you help us?"

Monica asked, voice full of hope and emotion.

She didn't want to sound as desperate as she felt, but the weeks spent in this limbo, not allowed to see Misa or even be informed on her well being and the progression of the investigation were taking their tool on her, now, fragile psyche.

"Riz.. Monica-san, I believe we could help you both, despite the roadblocks we have encountered and most certainly will encounter in the future."

Hope flared in her chest at the solid, determined sentence.

"Whatever your parcel is… It won't be a problem, money is, fortunately, not an issue."

"Of course Monica-san, we can surely reach an understanding on that front. We have actually been studying Amane-san's case for more than a week now, but we were held back by a research on some of our old files, led by the NPA. Obviously nothing substantial was found. We have nothing to hide."

The voice held a hint of pride for the last statement.

Frizzi had done a marvelous job it seemed.

"Of course Matsuko-san, I'm confident in your capabilities."

"Thank you Monica-san. I would like to meet you at this point to discuss and explore the eventual venues we could take to address the situation."

Monica bit her lower lip in thought.

Arrangements with the task force would be, unfortunately, necessary in the light of these newest events.

"I will need some time to look at my schedule to arrange our meeting. Can I call you at this number tomorrow? Maybe in the afternoon?"

"Of course Monica-san. It won't be a problem."

The brunette smiled, finally some good news.

"Thank you for taking the case, I know that it was… Is difficult. I'm really grateful."

The woman chuckled on the phone.

"Let's see if you are of the same opinion after you take a look at our parcel, Monica-san."

Monica chuckled back.

"I'm confident I can handle it, Matsuko-san. I will call you tomorrow. Good-bye Matsuko-san."

"Please Monica-san, call me Sato. I will be awaiting your call. Good-bye."

The connection ended and Monica felt hopeful and elated for the first time in weeks. She threw herself on the bed, breathing deeply, eyes closed, headache slowly receding.

Just as she was drifting into what would have hopefully been a restful sleep, Monica heard two light knocks on the door.

Blinking dazedly, she got up and headed toward the noise.

"Who is it?" She cautiously asked.

"Ryuzaki."

Her eyes widened and her chest gave a painful tug.

She hesitated.

In hindsight she should have know that something like that would have happened, telephone under surveillance and cameras recording 24h, she had just hoped it would happen later.

Much later.

Placing her forehead against the smooth, cold wood of the barrier separating them, the brunette closed her eyes tight, wishing him away, somehow.

If Shinigami actually existed, maybe fairies or goblins did too.

"Miss Rizzo should open the door."

She definitely didn't have a fairy godmother.

"I was just going to bed Ryuzaki."

She mentally patted her back for her steady voice, still her excuse was just as weak as she felt, with the adrenaline now below her feet, the tiredness of the week-month- _century_ crushing down on her shoulders.

"I must inform Miss Rizzo that knocking had merely been a curtesy. Every member of the task force can access to any room they wish, whenever they deem it necessary."

Motherfucker.

He sure thrived in pissing her off.

Jaw clenched and lips in a snarl, Monica wretched her door open in an instant, full on board in telling him just where he could shove his access into, when her blazing green gaze landed on the hunched figure outside.

Monica faltered without really knowing why.

Her slow mind eventually came to her rescue: she had never seen him standing, and…

Boy…

It was really a strange experience.

If the way he sat on a chair had been odd, the way he held himself..

How old was he?

She thought they could roughly be the same age, maybe he could be a couple of years older than her but nothing much.

Monica couldn't really describe it, he was like, folded in two..?

As if he had kyphosis but without an actual bulge in his spine?

His hands were stuck in his jeans pockets and his right foot, bare she noted, was scratching the back of the other one (also bare).

Irritatingly enough, even bent as he was, she still had to look up to stare into his eyes.

"If Miss Rizzo is quite finished in her assessment of my form, I require a moment of her time."

He informed her with his deep dull timbre.

Monica, who was by now gaping unattractively, blushed at the implications of this statement, but as she was readying herself to put him back in his place, Ryuzaki calmly slipped through the opening she left and made his way inside the room, as if he owned it, then chose an armchair to sit in his usual way before staring blankly at her.

She released the handle still in her grasp to turn to glare at him, how dare he just stomp inside her space, strumming upon the last remnants of her privacy, but his gaze, that at a first glance had appeared dull, bored, as always, was somehow… Different.

His whole face was.

He looked pissed.

How could she even guess that by that stoic expression she couldn't really tell.

His eyes looked more… Liquid, like a really hot liquid or maybe like lava…

"When did Miss Rizzo chose her new lawyers?"

Ah, straight to the point as always.

Fortunately she had covered her bases well enough to come out of this without a shadow of doubt.

Well, with Ryuzaki that would be quite impossible, his paranoia knew no bounds, if changing hotel rooms every three, four days was his normal lifestyle.

Monica scoffed, crossing her arms under her chest and making her way to the bed, where she properly sat, back straight and ankles crossed as if to show him how it was done.

"Didn't you listen to my new lawyer? I didn't chose nor contact them, my late father's company did."

His lower lip twitched minutely, if she had blinked she wouldn't have noticed.

"Miss Rizzo has not called R&F Inc. in almost a month."

Of course she didn't, she had wanted an advantage over him.

"But I call my Grandmother at least once a week, Ryuzaki. I asked her to do me this favor, I think… Two weeks ago, maybe? I don't quite remember."

She looked to her left as if recalling that particular conversation.

Ryuzaki tilted his head to the side, one hand leaving his knee so that his thumb could reach his lips.

"The thing is, Miss Rizzo's Grandmother never called the company." He rebutted, a hint of triumph in his voice.

Silence followed this statement.

So even Rachele's phone was under surveillance?

The old hag wouldn't be very happy.

Monica bit her lower lip, her green eyes huge.

"Uhm… Ryuzaki, are you aware that my grandmother holds my shares of the company until I reach twenty five, right? And that, sometimes, she has to sign documents on my behalf?"

She said clear and slow, to make him understand better, as if he were a child.

His gaze hardened.

Good, she had aimed at pissing him off further.

"Well, because of this, once a week, Frizzi, the other associate of my company, visits my Grandmother for tea. She probably spoke to him about my problems on such occasion."

She concluded staring right into his bottomless eyes, lying to his face, with a condescending smile on her lips.

He blinked two-three times, in silence.

She widened her smile.

"What did you think? I am under surveillance 24 hours per day."

She added derisively.

Was that a twitch in his left eye?

Maybe she was pushing him too far.

The silence that followed was tense, the air almost electric and just as she was about to blurt out something else, just to ease off the tension that clouded them, he spoke.

"I have reached a turning point in my investigation."

Her head snapped up in surprise, her eyes wide.

"W-what? What do you mean?"

His straight teeth started nibbling his thumb.

"It means that Miss Rizzo should wait to meet her lawyers."

Now that pissed her off.

"Whatever for? It's been a month, a _ **month**_ , since you've seen fit to let me see my sister!"

She stood up, hands clenched in fists as, red, hot _rage,_ clouded her eyes and mind.

"You fucking shredded my other lawyers, tried to do the same with these, I can read between the lines too, dear detective, I need to do something for her! I don't even know how she is, if she can sleep, eat or even take a shit!"

Monica turned viciously towards him, mouth almost foaming and eyes blazing.

"And you! You playing those sick mind-fucking games with her! Don't even think for a second that I couldn't see that. She's in a fragile state of mind and you exploit it to your wishes."

"Miss Rizzo should calm herself down."

He calmly interjected, pissing her off even more.

"Calm myself dow-…. Fuck you! And stop this Miss Rizzo bullshit this instant, it's grating on my nerves! Now let me tell you this Ryuzaki."

Her voice was a growl as she shortened the distance between them, trying to loom on him from her pitiful height.

"I will go to that fucking lawyer tomorrow, with or without you consent. I don't really give a shit. If you or one of your lapdogs try to stop me, so God help me, I will ruin you all. This is fucking kidnapping. I'm done playing by your rules!"

She was breathing heavily in his face, while he sat still and calm, almost bored.

God, how she wanted to slap him in his irritatingly symmetrical face.

"If Miss Rizzo is quite finished with her outburst, I would like to explain myself further."

Monica faltered slightly, torn between telling him to just fuck off and wanting to know what he would say to justify his demand.

He took her silence as a mean to keep talking.

"I devised a plan of action that could potentially prove the innocence of both Light and Misa."

She opened her mouth to ask for further details but he cut her off immediately.

"I will not tell Miss Rizzo anything else about said plan, I only ask her to have a little more patience until it will eventually be put in action."

Monica gritted her teeth.

"And when will that be?"

Ryuzaki tilted his head to his left side, eyes huge and an almost cute, thoughtful expression crossed his features.

"I'm still not quite sure about that."

She felt her left eye twitch repeatedly.

Was he for real?

"Then the answer is no, I will go to my lawyer tomorrow and we will see what happens next."

She informed him straightening her spine.

He slightly pursed his lips.

"I'm afraid I wasn't really asking Miss Rizzo."

Before she could ask him what the hell did he mean, or scream or tell him to fuck himself over a very spiny cactus, her wrists were seized and adorned by two metallic handcuffs.

Monica gaped at the sight, she didn't even see nor hear him move, then sent him a scornful glare.

"What the hell?" she hissed menacingly.

If looks could kill he would have been a pile of ashes on the ground from the sheer fire of her enraged stare.

Ryuzaki for his part ignored her and proceeded to exit the room calmly, with his hunched posture and strange gait, as if he didn't just handcuff a person in their own fucking room.

Mind finally out of shock, Monica started towards him only for her door to be almost slapped on her face.

A clicking sound followed the door shutting closed.

Dread filled her, she tried the handle and it didn't bulge.

"Ryuzaki? What the.. What are you doing?!"

Her tiny fists banged the doors, the chain between her wrists adding a rattling sound to the mix.

"Miss Rizzo was being unreasonable. I will free her after the plan will be set in motion."

He was a lunatic, fucking crazy.

Screw the world's most famous detective, he was a fucking psychopath.

"Let me out! You can't do this!" She screeched indignantly, a tinge of desperation coloring her voice.

"I'm afraid I'm already doing it Miss Rizzo."

"Help! Please somebody help me!"

"There is nobody that can help Miss Rizzo. I booked all the rooms in this establishment and the staff was sent home."

A cold chill settled over her.

How was that possible?

Who was this man?

She kept banging her fists out of spite.

"Ryuzaki, let me out." Her voice cracked at the end, she was gettin desperate.

"Soon, Miss Rizzo." Was the ominous response.

"Please, please! Ryuzaki! I'll do what you want! Please!"

She begged uselessly at the door.

Monica kept screaming and banging until her throat gave out and her fists were red and swollen, then she slid down the smooth wood of the door, her head cradled in her hands.

Her red rimmed eyes landed on her phone lying innocently on her bed, a flare of hope sparkling in her chest.

She scrambled to get it ,crawling on her knees, breathing heavily.

No service.

How was it possible…

She tried dialing Matsuko's number nonetheless, but nothing.

Monica threw her phone on the bed, screaming out once more, then, after pulling her knees to her chest, she gripped her hair tightly in desperation.

Now she really was a prisoner.

/

 **Present**

She needed to calm the fuck down for Godness' sake.

After knocking out the kid and storming out of her house as if it were on fire, Monica drove well beyond the speed limits for two hours then ditched the car as she reached a small town, and called a taxi service that charged her an outrageously high fare to take her to a shady motel, fifteen miles away from her abandoned vehicle.

The slimy man at the counter charged by the hour and asked her if she wanted some 'company' while openly leering at her bust.

Embarrassingly enough, her mind had been so clouded by her problems and anxieties that she had struggled to understand the meaning of that sentence for a moment.

Then she got it, stumbling through her words to politely turn him down, blushing all the while.

Once inside the room though, she pushed a chair and an ancient looking desk (not in a good way) against the door for good measure.

She dropped heavy on the bed letting out a huge sigh, breath hitching here and there as her lungs struggled to obey.

This was her life now.

She had always known from the first messy draft of her plan to the moment a sedated Ryuzaki fell gracelessly, long limbs tangled all over the place, into her arms, that her life would be light years different from the one she had been used to.

Still changing towns, cities, traveling like a gypsy to places she had always dreamed visiting, had been fun, liberating somehow, a little tiring now and then.

Before now.

Before there was a shadow, distant and shapeless, that haunted her.

True she had problems sleeping and was generally as paranoid as fuck but still, the danger was far away, a thought here and there that compelled her to move to the next town, the next adventure, becoming a Alex, a Mary, a Julia, different women with the same core.

Some days she could even imagine to be that Alex, Marie, Julia, a different, maybe better person.

But now the proof of that shadow was lying on her couch, passed out after her escape.

Sometimes, in the dead of her sleepless nights, she had entertained the idea of turning herself in to the NPA, Ryuzaky or whoever was chasing her, just to end this situation, this uncertain state so far away from her normal, structured life.

That kind of life fun as it might be was tiring after a while.

At least in prison she could regain some kind of control, be only Monica. Maybe..

Now, the threat to her freedom was so close she could almost still feel it, _him_ , breathing raggedly in her ear as he struggled to cage her, to trap her, now she didn't want it anymore.

No way, no fucking way she would give away her freedom, the chance of walking down a beach, eating a damned ice-cream, standing in the pouring rain, watching a silly movie whenever she wanted.

The thought of a cage, dark and alone, and, well, she was alone now, but not so much, she could still see other people, even if she couldn't get too close to anyone, but still being imprisoned, violated.

No.

She couldn't handle it.

Hell, she couldn't even handle the mere thought of it, if her rapidly contracting throat was telling her anything.

Her hands flew to the column of her neck, clawing at the skin, the sound of her loud, ragged breaths muffled and distant in her ears.

Monica was having a panic attack.

She knew it because she had experienced them in the past.

It was almost like a feeling of imminent death, heart going a mile per minute and difficult breathing a wonderful corollary to the whole experience.

So, yeah, she needed to calm down.

With stumbling steps Monica reached the small, honestly disgusting, bathroom flicking the blinking light and blindly reached for the handle of the sink.

After two or three groans a small waterfall of ice freezing water came from the tap and she eagerly splashed her face, once, twice and more and more, until she felt her breath again and her face go numb.

She stayed like that, bent over a yellowed sink, with droplets falling from her nose and chin, as tired lungs painfully inflated and deflated until they reached an almost normal pattern, all the while a constant ringing graced her ears.

Instead of irritating her the continuous white noise grounded her.

Straightening her spine, Monica chanced a look at the mirror.

And boy, what a sight.

Pale, gaunt cheeks, blotchy from the icy water treatment, were framed by wisps of wet hair that had been pulled out of her braid by the blonde kid, the shadow, her eyes that were normally big now looked huge, the color a dull, pale green instead of the usual solid green with aquamarine undertones.

Claw marks adorned her neck, red and ugly against the white skin; her body that had always been slightly curvy and -when had she lost so much weight?- legs and arms skinny, thin hips that made her almost look like a boy if it weren't for her breasts.

Even them looked bigger on her now thin physique.

The person that stared at her from the mirror wasn't Monica Rizzo.

Or maybe she had always been like this inside and now the outside matched too?

Full lips settled themselves in a grimace, trembling all the while.

A loud sob escaped them, then another and another until the person, _the stranger_ , was crying, wailing loudly and messily, but the eyes regained a little color, becoming aquamarine, closer to the original and the tears marring the gaunt cheeks were hot, warming the icy skin, and yes, she was still Monica, a thin, tired, scared Monica but _still_ Monica, the stranger wasn't really one, it was her.

It wasn't Alex, Marie or Julia.

Maybe crying was good, even if her nose became swollen and red and her eyes puffy, because she was becoming her once more, Monica, and even if she had no one, she still had herself.

And so she cried and cried in front of that mirror with the twitchy lamp that further hurt her eyes but she kept on looking because she still was herself, despite what had happened, despite what she had done.

Monica sat on the toilet, because her now thin legs were starting to hurt, and sobbed until her throat scratched painfully and the snot covered her hands, until her cries resounding in the tiny room became less loud, soft and then lulled her to a restless sleep but still sleep.

She parted the conscious world with a though on her mind.

Yes, she was still Monica and yes, she would pull through.


End file.
